Doubts and Doppelgangers
by icequeenkitty
Summary: Darkwing finds himself tangled in a web of lies and accusations. As if this wasn't enough Gizmoduck has come to arrest him personally! He has to clear his name, but how can he do it when the whole city wants his head? Also Bud Flood has the worst luck.AU
1. Chapter 1

**This is the third in a series! Please read Roots of Revenge and The Mistress and the Madman or (I assure you) you will not get what is going on.  
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**Doubts and Doppelgangers**

-Chapter One-

Never fear! Gizmoduck is here!

There was nothing like the loving kiss of alcohol to ease the pain. An army of different colored liquids were at his beck and call. All he had to do to deploy them was drop some green paper on the bar. At this place he didn't even have to ask for a specific drink, the bartender knew him well enough to figure out what he wanted next. He didn't need to talk here, he didn't even have to open his mouth if he didn't want to, which suited him fine. If he talked, people would recognize his voice, in fact he stopped listening to the radio because they played those damned commercials so often. If he spoke someone would catch it and then they would say something, he just didn't want to deal with that today. He was just glad people didn't know his face as well as they knew his voice, some did, but not many. He wished he could just get out for a few hours with out having to entertain people. He wondered what he was going to do when he left to go home. Ah, what must it feel like to be her, self serving and heartless? A refill came quickly his way. He had lived his life for someone else, degrading and humiliating himself in order to succeed in a glory-less field. Before he had made it big and raised his small bottling factory up to the enterprise it was today, she had been more than any man could ask for. She was kind, sweet, giving, compassionate, beautiful, and they were so very in love with each other. She had been there to lift him up in sadness and shared the burden without complaint in hard times. Felicity, the woman he swore before God to honor and cherish til death parted them... he barely recognized her now. He sucked back the last of the bitter liquid and signaled another round to the bartender. He knew it was a cruel fact that alcohol killed brain cells, he just wished it would maim the ones he wanted it to. He fiddled with his undone tie, it was one of his favorites, the silk was so smooth it slid through his fingers like water. He saw a couple of young girls, not unattractive, but nothing to fuss over, watching him. They were talking quietly to each other and one of them giggled. They noticed him eyeing them and one gave him a smile and a flirty bat of her eyelashes. He groaned inwardly. There was a batch of boys huddled around them trying to get lucky no doubt, and were rather annoyed with their fascination with him. He slid his eyes to the glass that was being refilled in front of him, and sighed a curse to himself. They had recognized him, soon they would saunter over here and try to sweet talk drinks out of him, maybe more. He wished he could just disappear.

"What's eatin' ya Bud?"

He looked up at the bartender. Malcolm was a good guy, and he loved being a bartender, why, Bud never really understood. It was sad but he spent so much time here he felt that this almost complete stranger was his closest friend.

"I don't really want to talk about it."

"Yeah right. Your face says different. C'mon Bud, we bartenders we're like psychiatrists, only we really listen." Smiled the dalmatian.

"... She's cheating on me Mal."

"Your wife? You're certain? You say it like you're sure, maybe she's just..."

"No. It's been going on for a while now. She use to hide it, used to make excuses for where she was going, where she had been. Now, she just gives me a look... a kind of sneer, and she leaves and doesn't come back for days, and she spends so damn much money." He spoke to the shot glass he slid miserably between his hands. A low whistle came from above the level of his eyes.

"Whadda bitch..."

A boiling rage tore through him and he pounded his fist hard on the bar.

"That's my wife you're talking about!"

"Buddy... listen, she's not the girl you married. Money, the kind that you make can change people."

"Well I haven't changed ." He huffed.

"Your kidding right? Look at you! I've known you for years, I never see you when you're not in a suit, and I can't even remember the last time I saw you crack a smile. Face it Bud, you can't tell if she's a friend or foe. She's milking your for every everything you've got."

"But... I love her." He said hopelessly. He saw it, saw that she acted like she didn't care about them anymore, but how could she really? They'd been together so long... how could she suddenly stop caring? He felt a comforting hand fall on his shoulder.

"I know ya love her Bud, but you gotta see she's not the girl she use to be. From what I see she's more plastic than flesh now and as warm as an iceberg. You've got to set her straight, you've got to end this."

"I don't know how..."

"Have you confronted her? Does she know that you know? Try threatening her with a divorce... if I'm right she'll seem more upset about parting with your money than with you. But if I'm wrong, and I hope I am, she'll see you care. She could be doing this for attention. I'm telling you, get the papers... you know just to have the visual aid, just to spook her."

He sat there the words licking his skin like a flame. He should try it, it wasn't a bad idea, but he was afraid. What if Malcolm was right? Could he sever himself completely from her? He didn't want it to come to that, sure she had become a financial leech but that didn't change how he felt. He wasn't a young man anymore. He was in his late thirties, and running on a rough work schedule, could he face a day with out knowing she was there, after fifteen years? The world seemed so big and empty to him. Cold and un-welcoming, could he survive in this world alone?

There was a bitter lonely-ness in the November night air. A stifling, smothering feeling of solitude that swallowed dark figure that was perched on a grizzly gargoyle overlooking a busy avenue. The cold blue eyes stared emptily down at the scurrying people below. The leather of his boots creaked softly as he crouched. A sigh escaped the caped mallard. He had not really recovered from the hardships he had endured last month. His joints were stiff, his spirit heavy with regret, his mind drowning in questions, and his heart was breaking a little more with passing of each day. He had not found any answers to any of the questions he had been haunted by and was losing his confidence. Quackerjack's words swirled around in his head, hid behind his eyelids, lingered behind every thought, he nagged at his brain.

_"Just you wait... This is only the beginning..."_ What did he mean?Darkwing sighed in defeat, he had no idea what it meant.

He knew he had slept but felt like he hadn't in weeks, he was falling apart. He was becoming resentful and ill tempered, he hated it. Under the sea of black layers the cold Macabre pendant he diligently wore, rested on his chest like a military medal. Like a purple heart, he thought morbidly. When she was here he didn't care about who he had been, about who he was suppose to be, but now she was gone for going on a month now. She hadn't sent him a stamp let alone an entire postcard. Morgana had made him feel like he could do anything, that just having the idea of her waiting for him would get him out of anything. She made him feel he was perfect, despite how broken he really was. Now, he felt nothing.

He was like a robot, mindlessly going through the motions. He had been seeing less and less of Gosalyn, due to her hockey league and when she wasn't practicing she was at the Muddlefoots'. Launchpad had gotten rather quiet lately, he showed up at the tower at the same time he always did, but Dark couldn't help but sense the mechanic's tension. He had been acting strangely, and Darkwing couldn't help but think that Launchpad was spending so much time at the hide out to escape from something. The pilot would tune up everything, whether it had been used or not. Darkwing hadn't asked what was wrong, and he doubted that Launchpad would give him a straight answer anyway.

He closed his eyes and drew himself back to the task at hand. Something interesting was going to happen tonight. Sightings were popping up all over the place of the nefarious band of thieves known as the Beagle Boys. They were a crime family run by their mother, she had so many sons that they didn't need to rally up more members for their little operations. The three boys that had been seen in St. Canard were "Big Time", the foul tempered brains of the outfit (next to Ma Beagle naturally), "Burger", the dopey brawn, and "Bouncer", the not as dopey as Burger (but not all that sharp either) brawn. They hadn't really done any harm yet, but just knowing they were here scumming up his city let him know they had plans. They normally terrorized the smaller, more friendly city of Duckburg, but the lure of the "big city" must have proven too much for them. Rumor had it they were going to hit an expensive jewelry store owned by the prestigious McDuck enterprises tonight. He was currently staring at it. He was going to show the dogs how real city justice feels with a hard kick to the face. If he took them down, would he feel a little better about himself? Would it help silence his doubts? Would it lift his spirits? There was a commotion on the street below and the tourists started stampeding away with screams. Darkwing Duck breathed in deeply and calmly spoke to himself.

"Let's get dangerous..."

"Everybody git' goin' or I'll start pumpin' ye full o' lead!" Big Time shouted merrily.

"Yeh!" Continued Bouncer. "Shoot ye some new holes!"

"Like Swiss cheese! Boy I love Swiss cheese..." Burger said more to himself than anyone else.

"You should cuz dat's what yer brain's made outta!" Snarled Big Time to his younger, gargantuan brother.

They all had burlaps sacks filled with goods slung over their shoulders, because (as their Ma said) it's all about the look of tha' thing. Robbers needed to carry burlap sacks, that's how you knew they were robbers and who were they to argue with their mother? So they held their bags with one hand as they brandished their fire arms with the other.

"I like dis place, it's real hospitable." Laughed Big Time.

"An' we dun even hafta worry about Gizmoduck bustin' us!" Said Burger happily.

As the last word escaped the largest beagle an explosion of blue smoke engulfed them. Amid the hacking of his brothers Big Time heard a terrible voice surround them.

"When I get through with you, you'll be wishing Gizmoduck **_was _**here."

He heard his brothers open fire and quickly be silenced.

"Who's dere!" He shrieked into the billowing smoke.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night, I am the viper that strikes while you sleep, I am Darkwing Duck!" Growled a voice from behind him.

In desperation he began shooting wildly as the creature called Darkwing Duck laughed all around him. A strong grasp tore the gun from his hand and a tight fist collided with his throat. Gasping for air and through his building reflexive tears a duck covered from head to toe in black loomed over him. The duck's strong hands grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him off the ground. He found himself staring into a pair of ice blue eyes.

"This city is mine Big Time, and you think Gizmoduck is hard on you goons... you haven't see anything yet." Snarled the face before him.

A flood light ripped their vision away. Darkwing blinked madly, as the sound of a screeching tire sounded to his left. He dropped the thug squinting at the moving flood light.

"Halt VILLAIN!" Sang a gallant sounding voice.

There was no time to respond or react, so the giant three fingered robotic hand seized him just as he had done to Big Time. He was lifted off the ground and the floodlight extinguished, however bright spots still floated around in front of Darkwing's eyes.

"What the hell are you doing?" Darkwing bellowed hotly.

"Aha!" Laughed the dramatic voice. "So I've finally caught you eh Darkwing?"

After a few good blinks his worst nightmare came into focus, and he groaned. Gizmoduck, a shiny, boxy armored, single wheeled tank, had him dangling in one of his well polished mits. The suit he wore was littered with what looked like compartments and the only visible part of the duck inside the metal casing was his bill and a bit of his neck. Darkwing struggled to release himself.

"Knock it off you over grown tin can!" He growled. "Put me down or the Beagle boys will get away!" The iridescent purple visor that hid the duck's eyes was locked on him.

"I can always catch up to the likes of them!" Boasted Gizmoduck loudly. "You on the other hand, are quite the slippery fish Wingy!"

"That's Darkwing Duck to you!" He snarled. "And are you so stupid you can't see that I'm a good guy too, you rolling junk heap!"

The beagles had recovered and took this confrontation to make a hasty retreat.

"They're getting away!" Darkwing roared and with immense effort he pried himself from the mechanical grip. He started in pursuit when he heard a spring loaded explosion sound from behind him. With a hard kick off the ground he narrowly missed the device that had meant to wrap around his legs and trip him. He landed, crouched, facing the unicycled mobile fortress that was speeding toward him.

"What are you playing at you moron?" Darkwing shouted. He had never liked the "super hero" even though they hadn't met before, however now that they had he loathed the meddlesome machine.

"I, Gizmoduck, am bringing you to justice! You're little joyride in Duckburg will not go unpunished. Now return what you have taken and come quietly and I will not unmask you in public you scoundrel!" Announced the overly dramatic voice.

"What the hell are you talking about! Maybe you fried a fuze somewhere Giz, because I haven't set a foot in your stupid city!" He stayed crouched, if this ham was half as predictable as Darkwing guessed he was there would be another projectile fired at him very soon.

"Ha! Ha! And triple Ha! I am not as dumb as I look you know! If you will not come peacefully I will remove you by force!" A panel sprung open on the amazingly complicated white armor and what resembled a missile flew toward him.

Nimbly he leapt over it, but as he did so it exploded and a net shout out and entangled him mid leap. He hit the pavement hard and struggling angrily. A unicycle approached.

"I warned you Darkwing. Now where have you hidden the stolen goods?"

Darkwing glared up at the brute with a new found hatred.

"You're after the wrong guy tin man... I've told you all ready I DIDN'T DO IT!" He snarled.

"Oh and I suppose all the photographs and videos of your ransacking are fakes?" A knowing smile passed the visible mouth as Gizmoduck crossed his massive arms.

"Or maybe I was framed! Or you were tricked! Somehow I don't think you're the brightest crayon in the box and would believe anything! But I didn't do a damned thing!" He fumed.

"No dice Ducky, as the justice official that I am, and also Mr. McDuck's bodyguard, I am required to bring you in as well as recover the objects you have snatched." Announced the pompous metal clad duck loudly so that the gathering crowd would get a good show,

There was a sudden explosion of thick blue smoke.

"I told you I didn't do it." Said the swirling curtain.

A panel on the suit's left shoulder flung open and a fan swivelled into view and started blowing the smoke away,

"Parlor tricks will not save you from Gizmo..." The smoke cleared and the net lay hacked to pieces, with no Darkwing in sight. "...duck." He finished crest fallen. The crowd gave a collective gasp and started talking excitedly to each other. Gizmoduck felt it was time he informed the masses.

"Citizens of St. Canard, Darkwing Duck is a menace! The fiend has been day lighting in my fair Duckburg, stealing from the honorable Mr. Scrooge McDuck, then vanishes just as you have seen him do here tonight! Before your very eyes! This man must be stopped and I have been called in to bring him down!" The crowd erupted into a cheer. "But I cannot do this alone! You all must be on look out for this masked mallard and if you should spot him contact your local authorities immediately! Only together can we catch this scallywag!" A cry of enthusiasm ran up and down the street.

Darkwing, four stories above resisted the urge to throw a brick at the bumbling battle tank. He kept his balance on the small ledge and tried to shoo away a perched raven, who didn't budge. Someone had set him up... framed him! Could this day possibly get any worse? He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath and suddenly the world went black.

Darkwing Duck, Gizmoduck and all related characters are © Disney

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Here you go! Chapter one! I still don't have the end of this story written, but I hoped typing it up would get the creative juices flowing (plus it's gunna be long time before I get to where I stopped.). Oh and I cannot put into words how much I love writng for Gizmoduck, he is so much fun. :D So here it is for now... more to come soon!


	2. Chapter 2

-Chapter Two-

Stinging Truth

Bud Flood sat fidgeting in the dark of his lavish penthouse apartment. He swirled an expensive pen absently between his fingers. It was nearing midnight and she was nowhere to be found. He hadn't gotten the divorce papers, but he was going to confront her. He was going to try and salvage this marriage and if he needed the papers to talk sense into her, he'd get them tomorrow. He felt ill, nervous, and excited all at once to finally call her out. Now if only she'd show up!

"_What if she doesn't come home?_" Panicked a voice in his head. "_What if you worked up the courage too late?_"

"_No,_" reasoned another, calmer voice. "_She'll be back, she always comes back._"

Almost as if on cue there was the unmistakable sound of a key disarming the lock. In a sweep of light, the door opened and her hourglass figure stood silhouetted in the doorway. It soon disappeared with the closing of the door and the tell tale click of the lock. She was wearing high heels that clicked on the marble floor. By the sound of her steps and the shifting of shadows she was headed for the bed room.

"Felicity, we need to talk."

Her movement stopped.

"What are you doing sitting the dark Bud?" She asked aggravated.

"I'll turn on the light if it will make you feel better." He responded cooly.

"No, I'm not afraid of the dark. I'm just disgusted by the monsters that choose to hide in it." She snapped cruelly. She was closer now and his eyes adjusted to the dark.

She was dressed as if she were a girl of twenty-one going out to her first bar. Her blonde hair was in intricate curls, some of them were piled strategically on the top of her head. She wore a red and white corset top and a knee length white skirt lined with delicate lace. Her white high heels were adorned with red ribbons that laced into bows up her calves.

"You are aware that it's November Felicity?"

"The only thing that's cold around here is you." She said shortly.

"I know you've been having an affair."

"Stop the presses! Buddy finally figured it out!" She mocked. "Would you like me to bake a cake to commemorate this special occasion?"

"I want it to stop."

"Ha! Do you now? And why is that I wonder? Is it bad for business?" She scoffed.

"Because you're my wife and I love you! Or does our marriage mean so little to you now?" He shouted.

"Oh don' t you even start... You know, I don't even want to talk about this." She started to walk away but he pursued her and grabbed onto her arm.

"No! We are going to talk about this now!"

Her nose crinkled in disgust.

"You've been spending the evening with your dear old friend Jack Daniels I see..."

"Yeah, I've had a few drinks."

"It smells like you've had a few gallons." She wrenched her arm out of his grip. "So what would you like me to say Bud?"

"I want us to work this out Fel! What can I do to make you see that I love you!"

"Cut me a check for tomorrow and never talk about this again." She sneered.

"Damn it woman! What has happened to you? I don't even know who you are anymore!"

"And that's the way I like it!" She seethed. "He treats me the way a man should treat a lady. He makes me feel like a new woman, not some old dog's housewife!"

"Did you even stop for a minute to think that maybe he treats you so well to tap into my hard earned fortune?" Bud fumed losing his cool.

"Don't flatter yourself Buddy! He has just as much money as we do and is a hundred times more good looking than you could ever hope to be!"

"Who is he Felicity? I swear I'll rip his heart out!"

She laughed enthusiastically at his threat.

"You? You couldn't hurt a fly Bud Flood. And even if you felt so inclined he'd crush you like grape! He's a powerful man, the kind of man I've always dreamed of! Why would I give him up for a pathetic water sales man who has drifted down the creek?" She put her hands haughtily on her hips.

"Then I want a divorce!"

"You can't divorce me." Felicity laughed, like the very thought was ridiculous.

"Oh I assure you I can. I am so old fashioned that I'd strap myself to a hopeless and faithless marriage!" He boasted, trying to hide his concern. "We'll see how deep his love really lies when I cut you off completely from all my funds."

"He won't care he loves me more than you ever did." She snarled wickedly.

"You'll see how shallow his intentions really are soon, my dear."

The sound hit him first. The harsh loud clap of a palm colliding hard with a face. It took a second for the stinging pain to make him wince.

"He's twice the man you are! In more ways than one!" She hissed and slammed herself up in the bed room locking the door behind her.

He stood in the empty hallway, staring at the closed door. The world once again opened up to him, it forced it's scorn and sorrow onto him. As he stood there, stunned and heart broken only one thing came to his mind. He marched back to his study in defeat and took out his hidden bottle of brandy. As he took a large gulp he thought bitterly to himself.

"Well Mal, you were right."

Darkwing stirred and felt the cold stone floor beneath him. He opened his eyes and found himself lying face down in the hideout. He blinked in confusion, how did he get here? There was something rigid and smooth in his hand. He held a shiny white piece of metal, he turned it over carefully. What was it, and where did it come from? He got up stiffly and stretched out his back. He must have zoned out or something. He was so tired, it didn't really seem so far fetched that he got back here on impulse alone. He tossed the mystery metal onto a nearby table and started to change back into his street clothes. His head pounded slightly and he felt rather odd. Maybe he knocked himself out upon reentering the tower? He rubbed his forehead, as if trying to regain the memory of what had happened, no luck. This was too weird, he was just glad he didn't have to drive home anymore. He had spent a lot of time lately building a direct connection from his house to the tower. He had to go back to the blackboard numerous times until he discovered that an abandoned track of sewer pipes ran almost the entire distance between the two destinations. With the help of some of his more ingenious contraptions (and Launchpad) he added tunnels and set up a strong suction. In the end he had constructed a painless, fast, and efficient passage between the two destinations. He had rigged the triggering device to identical figurines of his favorite literary detective. With a flick of the great Basil of Baker Street's head the perfectly camouflaged tunnels opened and jettisoned it's passenger at top speed to the other end.

Now, he did just that. He zoomed along with nothing but his thoughts. Who was masquerading as him so convincingly that no one could see through the lie? If it had just been Gizmoduck, he might have believed that it was just some punk with big ideas and a cheap imitation costume. But the clanking conniption had mentioned Scrooge McDuck, not only was he the richest man in the world but he was also sharp as a tack. His doppelganger must have been trying to find something in Scrooge's mansion, had he found it? What was taken? And why pose as Darkwing? He came to a halt as he approached the house on Avian way. He climbed the ladder that connected the tunnel to the basement. The light of the living room shone from under the doorway and he grumbled to himself. He ascended the stairs and entered the main floor of the house. He wasn't surprised to see Gosalyn in position in front of the television. He stalked toward her and noticed her staring at the tube with her mouth hanging open.

"And what are you doing up this late on a school night missy?" Her green eyes shot to him.

"Wow dad. I knew you didn't like Gizmoduck but you're really making this whole thing worse!" She lectured him forgetting how he surpassed her in years.

"What are you talking about? That lug nut attacked me out of the clear blue sky!"

"Yeaaah and then you wailed on him big time! You're all over the news!"

"'Wailed on him'? What are you talking about?" He sat next to her on the couch.

The news caster with his hair fashioned in a big blonde curl introduced himself as Tom Lockjaw and sprung into a report about the current "Darkwing Hunt". Footage of the scuffle danced across the screen as Lockjaw's animated voice recounted the events. There it was, the cloud of smoke, Gizmoduck using his fan to clear the area, then the long winded speech and then... a gunshot? A frenzy erupted and the people scrambled away as the camera man valiantly fought to keep his camera steady. Gizmoduck whirled around and a small bullet ding was clearly displayed on his backplate. Darkwing Duck leapt back into view, and held one of the Beagle boy's firearms steadily on Gizmoduck. Drake felt his jaw drop. The Darkwing on the television steadily unloaded the gun at the unflinching Gizmoduck. When the gap between the two was closed, Darkwing started a flurry of attacks on the hero. Drake started in a numb state of shock as he watched the dynamic double strategically strike through the suit's weaknesses, a point in the arm joint and a few jabs that landed near the throat. Then with precise accuracy he landed a hit on a fragile looking panel and the suit sparked. With a crash that made his skin crawl Drake watched Gizmoduck fall to the concrete. The double then put a foot on the armored chest and wrenched a door off of a compartment with a horrible snap. He held it up and brandished it at the cameraman. Then he heard the voice.

"Let that be a message to you McDuck! If you want your precious trinkets back so bad you can come get them yourself!" Cackled the dark voice, **_his _**voice!

With out a blink a cloud of smoke engulfed him and the devious double was gone. He felt her eyes upon him and he finally found the strength to shut his gaping mouth.

"So, I suppose that wasn't you, huh?'

"No. Whoever this guy is... he's really good."

"I'll say! He looks _AND_ sounds just like you! Where were you when all this was going on?" She muted the discussion that followed the clip.

"I..." He blinked thickly. "I don't quite remember... but I KNOW I didn't do _that_!" He jabbed a finger pointedly at the t.v. "Why would I want to steal anything from Scrooge McDuck? It just doesn't make any sense! I'm going to get to the bottom of this, and when I do I'm going to bust open some skulls."

"Uh huh," She said with a sarcastic sneer. "Well, Honker figures that whoever is doing this has some secret plan to try and get Mr. McDuck here."

"Honker?" He glared at her.

"Aha..." She laughed nervously, realizing the bit of information she had failed to inform him of. "Yeah... I kinda... sorta... told him a little." She peeped. "But it's all right! He knows not to tell anyone and I'm sure he can help out..."

"Do you understand what _SECRET IDENTITY_ means! Do you realize that now you have not only put _us_ in danger, but _him_ as well?"

"C'mon dad! He practically knew already with all the Quackerjack stuff! I swear I'll take care of Honk if anything happens!"

He let out an aggravated sigh, there was no un-doing that. He leaned back into the chair and she rested her head on his shoulder. He gave her a reprimanding look, but she put on those big puppy dog eyes.

"Don't worry about it dad. Honker won't snitch on ya! He'd never do anything to hurt us! And I wouldn't worry about this other guy. Anyone who knows you will see he's not the real Darkwing, I mean come on! You could _never_ take down Gizmoduck!"

He raised an eyebrow at her mischievous smile and she laughed.

"Well I'm glad you think this is so funny." he huffed.

"Ah, c'mon dad, it's just nice to see you acting like your old self again... even if it means you're in trouble."

"I'm sorry I've been a real jerk lately Gos..." He put his arm around her.

"Don't sweat it, but remember Morgana isn't the only girl who loves you."

"I know, I love you too kiddo. It's just...I'm just kinda down right now... " He sighed and decided to change the subject. "How was hockey practice?"

"Oh I kicked their butts!" She announced happily.

"So your team is doing good huh?"

"Well... **_I _**did fine..." She said grumpily. "... but the rest of the team got the bum end of the deal."

"Wait... now when you said you kicked their butts you didn't really mean..."

"Well they started talking trash about you and this whole Duckburg thing! Gene, who's dad lives there, told him a bunch of bogus stuff about Darkwing! He was putting you down, and talking crap so the second we got on the ice...BAM! I smeared him across the plexiglass like a bug on a windshield! Then the rest of the kids came over an' I gave them a good whack for laughing at you!" She growled.

"Gosalyn..." he groaned. "What good could that possibly have done?"

"Hey! I stood up for you and you're going to put me down? I wasn't going to stand there and let them call you names! They deserved it!" She scowled.

"Now listen, I'm glad you feel that strongly about my image but I need to fight my own battles. And you have to stay out of trouble!"

"Oh look who's talking! You get in more trouble than I do!" She puffed.

"Well that's different. Gos, I need you to behave for a while okay? I've got enough on my plate as it is, don't you think?"

"I guess." She grumbled.

"Good. Now I think it's time we both went to bed." He took the remote out of her hand.

The muted Lockjaw was talking avidly, a giant still frame of the imposter hung over his shoulder as Drake shut off the t.v. With a heaving sigh Gosalyn got off the couch and started up the stairs, he was close on her heels. She stopped at her doorway and turned back to him.

"Oh and I almost forgot, Launchpad seems pretty steamed by this whole thing... I'm not sure why."

"I think he used to work for McDuck," Drake raked a hand through his hair feathers. "I suppose he thinks it really is me who's snitching the geezer's goods."

"Launchpad used to work for the richest duck in the world, huh? That's kind funny, because now he works for one of the poorest." She teased.

"Har de har." He said with a roll of his eyes.

"But seriously, as soon as the news reports started he called looking for you. I've never heard him so angry... he sounded like he was about to explode."

"I'll bet he was. Don't worry about L.P., okay? I'll talk to him first thing in the morning." He patted her messy mass of red hair.

"All right, good night then. Oh and don't forget you owe Gene's dad a good wallop!" She shook her fist in the air.

"Yeah, yeah, and a swift kick in the pants for his kid."

It was a cold night but when he closed his eyes, to finally get some sleep, he felt a warm peaceful feeling snag him and pull him away like a fish on a line. Moonlight bore down on his eyelids, a soft breeze ruffled his feathers, he kept his eyes shut. Something weird was happening, and he'd had ENOUGH of weird for today. He could feel the dampness of the grass beneath him on his back, and what had been his pillow now felt eerily like a pair of legs. Drake felt his "pillow"'s eyes on him, he ignored it the best he could. A hand brushed through his hair. On contact with the fingers a familiar tingle ran through him and his eyes immediately shot open. Her sweet smile almost made him keel over.

"Morgana!"

"Hello darling." She sounded tired, but as happy as he was. He tried to sit up but she stopped him. "Lie still or I won't be able to keep you here."

"How have you been? Where are you now? Are you all right?" He babbled, flustered by the very sight of her. She laughed gently.

"I'm doing okay, I've been under the weather a lot recently. But what's wrong with you?" Her beautiful green eyes seemed to swallow him.

"What?"

"I've been trying to get in touch with you for weeks, why haven't you been sleeping?"

"... What?"

Her concern faded into confusion. She blinked thoughtfully.

"Drake, I know you've been struggling with this whole McDuck fiasco... is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Not much more than you all ready have, God... it's good to see you." He sought out her hand, held it firmly, and felt the large ring with the large shining crystal embedded in it resting under his fingers . The warmth of her touch told him this wasn't a dream, that her magic had somehow brought her here. She smiled down at him, her silky hair dangling loosely around her face.

"I've missed you so much." She smiled a smile that threatened to dissolve into tears. "I couldn't find you... I was so scared. Only when you're asleep can I get us to meet like this... and if you say you have been sleeping it only confirms my fears. Strong dark forces are at work Drake, they're fighting to keep us apart..."

"What do you mean? That negatron stuff again?" He blinked up at her, she slowly shook her head.

"This is different, I mean, yes the negatrons are there. They certainly are interfering but there is something else, something or someone is enforcing them. It's been escalating out of control these last few nights, but tonight it hit it's peak with what happened to Gizmoduck..."

"You heard about that huh?" He asked feeling ashamed.

"Yes. The motives of whoever is behind this are evil, and run deeper than anyone can guess. I've felt their malice in waves while I was trying to locate you. It's really taken a toll on my third eye. It's been clouded so badly I could barely find you tonight, and you're usually a light as bright as the sun."

He heard the words escape him, they were spewing out of his mouth, his darkest fear left him before he could think.

"It isn't me right? That Darkwing isn't really me is he?"

Her eyes filled with sorrow at his desperate tone.

"I don't know Drake, but... when 'he' fought Gizmoduck tonight... I couldn't sense your existence at all..."

"But what does that mean?"

"I... I don't know." She meekly replied.

Numbly, he stared up at the glittering stars.

"Can you come back?"

"Drake..."

"I know it's selfish and inconsiderate but, I can't help but think that if you're here that I can beat this. You make me stronger and I think clearer when you're around... and..." Her hand pressed gently on his bill to silence him.

"Drake... I'm already on my way." She gave him a serene smile.

"You are?" He felt his burden lift ever so slightly.

"I'm far but I should be with you in a few days."

He kissed the hand he held and felt the surge of hope she always instilled in him.

"A lot can happen in that time Drake, please be careful."

"I will Morgana."

She leaned down and was about to kiss him when this Eden was ripped away with an earsplitting slam. He saw her face disappear in a flash. His eyes were dark again and his bed was beneath him. He opened his eyes and heard the sounds of an intruder downstairs. The person was not being quiet, in fact it sounded like anything that got in their way they broke. He scrambled out of bed.

"DRAKE!" Screamed a familiar voice tinged with hatred. "Drake you traitor! Come and fight me!"

Gosalyn was already in the hallway when he got there. She was leaning over the banister staring down the stairs, her eyes wide with fright. He pulled her away from the banister and gave her a little shove toward her room. He moved past her and started to round the corner to go down the stairs, she latched onto his arm.

"He's really drunk dad..." She peeped.

"I can see that Gosalyn thank you. I want you to go in your room okay?"

She let out a cry. He had to quickly duck the tequila bottle that flew at his head and shattered on the wall behind him. He broke loose of her and stalked down the stairs toward the swaying Launchpad. A look of un-inhibited anger was burning on his face, his brown eyes flaring with unbridled hatred, and it was aimed directly at him. He had never seen Launchpad like this before.

"You...why would you do this!" Growled the furious figure.

"Now, Launchpad, calm down okay? It's not what the news is making it look like..."

The strong fist collided hard with his cheek and Drake tasted the blood leak into his mouth.

"Don't choo lie to me you bastard!" Launchpad seized him harshly by the collar of his shirt and held him menacingly close. The reek of his breath almost make Drake gag. "I don't know what you're after but I'm ending it right now! How dare you hit Mr. Mc D so low on the two year anniversary... "

"I don't have a clue what you're talking a..." The rest of his defense was lost when Launchpad violently pushed him backwards, hitting his head against the wall.

"Like hell you don't!" Drake managed to shove his drunkard assailant away from him. " You didn't go after his gold or any of his treasures, no leave it to you to dig you heel right into his heart and twist it. Well guess what Drake! You pissed off more than just Mr. Mc D!" Roared the inebriated duck as he took another swing at him. Ready, Drake sidestepped the sloppy punch.

"Launchpad... I didn't do it..." He was fighting to keep his cool.

"Oh sure! Just like you didn't go after Gizmoduck?"

"That's right, now listen to me!" He demanded as he wiped his bloody mouth on his arm. Launchpad's shoulders were heaving with his outrage but had apparently stopped his assault. "It looks bad, I know, but I have nothing to do with..." A tight fist came at him again and he stepped back, his patience was gone. "Damn it I said LISTEN!"

"I'm done listening to you! If you don't give me Dewey's things I'll rip your black heart out right now!"

"Launchpad stop!" Gosalyn was scrambling down the stairs.

"Dewey?" Drake repeated the word... name? Was that what it was? A name?

"You know damn well who Dewey was you..." Launchpad seethed.

"I said stop!" Commanded the red head. She put herself between them and held her arms out to her sides.

"Gos.. Step aside, he's not going to get away with this..." Croaked Launchpad as tears collected in the corners of his eyes.

"I can't get away with anything that I DIDN'T DO!" Drake growled.

"Launchpad, do you really think that **_Dad_** beat Gizmoduck?" Gosalyn asked ignoring Drake's out burst.

"Gosalyn!" Drake cried in outrage.

Launchpad eyed Drake thoughtfully, and the bird's shoulders drooped in defeat. Drake felt his ego shatter.

"That's what I thought." Gosalyn piped in. "Now I think it's time you both acted your age and went to bed!"

If his jaw wasn't aching it would have dropped to the floor. Launchpad, however, looked crestfallen. It was clear the fight was no longer in him.

"Go sleep on the couch." She jabbed her finger toward the living room and like a puppy the barrel chested bird obeyed. Once he was safely out of the room, she turned to him. "You okay dad?"

"Geeze, you sure cut him down to size..." He said in awe.

"That was nothing, you should see what Gene looks like." She smirked and started to climb the stairs, he followed her.

"Is it really that unbelievable that I could beat Gizmoduck?" He brushed the broken glass bottle aside. He heard her sigh, openly annoyed.

"Good night dad." She said flatly and closed her door.

He stood there, staring at the door in a hurt daze. Launchpad's muffled sobs carried up the staircase. He rubbed his screaming jaw. So the stolen items belonged to someone named Dewey? He'd have to find out who this person was.

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

This Story and Felicity Flood are © Christina Smith

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This chapter illustrates rather well the disclaimer I put in the beginning of the story no?

**Attention to anyone who has gotten this far and hasn't read Roots of Revenge or The Mistress and the Madman**, for answers to "How did Dewey Die" (Roots of Revenge chapter 7) and "What's up with Drake, Morgana, and Negatrons?" (Mistress and the Madman chapter 2) Go read those stories... sillies.

Ah, I apologize for the lenghty-ness of this chapter, I just couldn't bring myself to space it any other way. Cutting it off too soon just felt wrong. Let's just say it's in celebration of my late realization that this is the 250 th DW story on the site. So... yeah we'll stick with that. Yay Darkwing fans! This long chapter's for you!


	3. Chapter 3

-Chapter Three-

Wearers of Armor and Armani

The night was far from over and across the city the rumors spread like wild fire. Gizmoduck was taken down by Darkwing Duck, some of the more exaggerated tales claimed Gizmoduck was dead. No one was quite sure exactly had happened, not even the two adversaries. While Drake was settling in for a sleepless evening in the silence of the suburbs, deep in the heart of the city in an expensive suite a pair of deep brown eyes opened for the first time in hours. The unfamiliar ceiling covered in a heavily flowered wallpaper spun before his eyes. Odd sounds slowly began to raise in volume. Ah, he thought, I remember those... those are words. A familiar, elderly face hung over him.

"How many fingers am ah holdin' up laddie?" Said the kind voice with a thick Scottish accent.

"That's too easy Uncle Scrooge..." Interceded a youthful voice. "Fenton, how many flowers are on the ceiling?"

"Four thousand nine hundred and sixty three." He croaked automatically, he was an ace at numbers. He just wished those flowers would stop spinning.

"He's fine." Came another young voice, colder than the first and farther away.

"Aye, yoo gave us a scare there. That madman certainly is a menace." Said the elderly duck as he moved out of Fenton's range of view. He was left to stare at the four thousand nine hundred and sixty three little red flowers that were plastered above him.

"I don't get it. The suit's taken worse abuse than that." Said the first young voice. "Why'd it just stop?"

"That's a good question Louie, an' perhaps Fenton can answer that for us?"

"... It zapped me." He breathed in painfully through clenched teeth as he sat up. "He hit something and it just... shorted out."

The decadent room swirled around him. Scrooge McDuck, stood facing a curtained window. He was up in years but Fenton had never met anyone so full of ambition and drive. Though in the last two years he looked like he had aged ten, thick wrinkles lined his face and his eyes always held a silent sorrow. The death of Dewey had been so hard on them all, he was only ten, he had his whole life in front of him, and though the adults had trouble coping the real victims were his brothers. Louie, once so carefree and gentle had become an angry young man. He sat in a large chair to the right of the large bed that Fenton had been placed in. Huey had been adventurous and friendly, now every word from his mouth was deep with cynicism and stung with sarcasm, he sat in the corner furthest from the rest of them. Fenton eyed the identical boys, he couldn't even begin to think how terrible it had to be to look in the mirror and see a face that looked exactly like Dewey's.

His eyes strayed from his somber company and began to take in the overly elegant room around him. A hot tub the size of a small pool was built into the floor in front of a large set of windows, there was a full walk in kitchen with better facilities than any he had ever owned, a giant entertainment center was proudly displayed across from the bed he was in, which was big enough to fit five people comfortably. He had worked for Mr. McDuck for years now, he had seen so many rooms like this before but, he was still in awe every time he saw them. It was just that he was, Fenton Crackshell, he wasn't anyone particularly important, and had never dreamed he'd be able to stay in a place like this. But when he was Gizmoduck, people practically threw things like this at him, so when Fenton got to stay in nice places like this he couldn't help but remember how he thought he'd never amount to anything and neither did his mother. Not that he was sure she ever heard what he was saying to her, it was hard to determine whether she was yelling at him or the soap operas she loved. He sat on the far right side of the massive bed, and his eyes met a huge television, his mother would love this place. There were mirrors all over and he caught a glimpse of how horrible he looked, bruises covered him and there were dark circles etched under his eyes. He was glad Gandra wasn't here to see him like this, she'd probably break up with him. After all the times she told him to be careful and he came back with broken limbs and bruises she'd always been there, but looking at himself now he really wondered if she wouldn't just slam the door in his face. His entire body ached, he wished he had stayed knocked out, he couldn't get the demon's voice out of his head.

"I'm sorry Mr. McDuck." He sighed miserably.

"Now Fenton dinnet go apologizin' to me. He got away this time but we'll have him sooner than he thinks. But for nowe he's got us where he wants us." Scrooge's keen dark eyes returned to him.

"But why does he want us?" Huffed Huey. "You should have blown his head off as soon as he showed himself."

"Don't be stupid Huey! What good would that have done?"Argued his green shirted brother.

"He'd be DEAD Louie, that's the only way we're going to be rid of the bastard."

"Nowe boys!" Shouted Scrooge over the bickering. "Ah think yoo should head off to yoor rooms before ya git too outta hand."

The identical boys scowled at each other and removed themselves from the room. Scrooge stared after them sadly, Fenton couldn't stand to see that look on his face so he looked as his bruised hands miserably. He had gotten nothing. The Beagle Boys played right into their plan and so did Darkwing. It was all an elaborate plot to try and get some clues as to who was behind the mask. He had managed only a few vital scans, height and body weight, but it was all wiped when the suit short circuited. Scrooge knew that... he had too. This was all an attack on Mr. McDuck and he couldn't even do this part in defending him.

"So lad... what do ye remember aboot this Darkwing Duck?"

"Well... he's a strong little bugger, probably about my height, maybe a little shorter... and he had these crazy blue eyes... it was like being eyeballed by a freezer." He shuddered.

"Do ye remember anythin' _useful_?" Snapped the quadrillionare coldly.

Fenton hung his head, and Scrooge let out an apologetic sigh.

"Ah'll leave yoo be, rest up nowe I expect yoo to be ready ta leave at seven thirty sharp."

Fenton winced at the thought of rising so soon. "We're startin' plan B ahead o' schedule. Ah think it will do the boys and Webby some good, an' we all knowe good is in short supply these days." The well dressed duck moved toward the door. "The girls are across tha hall, me an' tha boys are in the two suites directly above. G'night Fenton."

The door closed with the cold metallic click of metal on metal. He couldn't shake his nemesis from his mind. The man inside the costume must be seriously ill. Not only because he stole the belongings of a dead child but his actions betrayed his instabilities. He was anti-confrontational one minute and then the next he was shooting at him. How could he hope to fight a foe that changed modes so quickly? He saw a glint of the reflective metal of his own costume peeking from within a large armoire that stood to the left of the bed. He dreaded the next time he had to put on the gear. This was not going to be easy. He leaned back into the perfumed pillows with a sigh.

"I should have stayed a bean counter..."

It was early in the morning when she slunk out of the penthouse. She had her suspicions that Bud had most likely drunk himself into a stupor, so she had little worry of waking him. She fixed herself up as glamourously casual as she could and left for his apartment. Bud was wrong about him. He loved her, she was sure of it. The way he treated her, he had to be in love. Bud was just a jealous old fool, and he should be. She smirked to herself as she slid into her sleek sports car, she was certainly a catch, anyone would hate to loose her, she told herself. Her lover was a secretive business man who worked out of a classy part of the city. He was young, handsome, had an amazing body and was so incredibly passionate. Her heart fluttered like school girl's when she thought about him. Already a plan was hatching in her head as she arrived at his door. A plan she quickly dismissed quite shocked at how cruel her brain had been by hatching it. She rapped her knuckles smartly on the door. There was a moment of silence, he had to be here... he always seemed to be here whenever she needed him. She heard the lock slide open, the door swung open, and there he was.

"Well good morning gorgeous." Smiled the metal mouthed rooster.

"Right back at you stud." She returned the smile. He stood about six foot three, had cold grey eyes, a steel plated beak, and was wearing a white dress shirt and a pair of black pants. She didn't know what he did, and didn't know why his beak was the way it was, but questions like that didn't bother her much anymore. He looked as if he was in the middle of getting ready to go out, he had a pressed Armani suit jacket laid carefully over the back of his couch. "Are you going to keep a lady lurking in the hallway Steelbeak?"

"My apologizes babe, please come in." He moved aside and she entered the place she considered her second home. It was oozing with class, modern accents adorned the comfortable space, and it was always so magnificently clean. He shut the door, clapped on some locks and pursued her. "Ta what do I owe de pleasure of yer visit my dear?"

She sat on his rich black leather sofa, he was reclining beside her within seconds. His cologne made her head swim and the way he looked at her made her want to melt.

"I missed you," She cooed. "And the old dog is hounding me again..."

His arm slid around her and she rested her head on his chest. She could stay like this forever.

"He playin' da same ol' hand?"

"Well, no. I have some good news. The old cold fish wants a divorce, now we can be together!"

An awkward silence answered her. She looked up in confusion to his unreadable expression.

"Isn't it wonderful darling?" She asked hopelessly.

"Ah... don't ya tink ya should tink dis through?" He said calmly. "I mean divorce? Tink about where that would leave you."

"I'd be free to be with you."

"Sure that, an' you'd be an outcast from all yer social affairs. Not ta mention a lot ...uh, less provided for." He stroked her hair.

"You mean.. You only want me for his money?"

"Now sweet cheeks I didn't say dat. I just tink dat tings are great da way dey are now an' ya should put some serious thought inta what would be best for ya."

He smiled kindly through the mass of gleaming metal, and she couldn't help but believe he was sincere. Perhaps she was being too rash, and she should think this through. But right now she had all she wanted, she was with him. She would stay here until he had to leave then she'd have to go some where to think things over. The dark little idea whispered in her head and it didn't sound as atrocious as it had before, she would think over... everything.

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

Felicity Flood is © me

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Whew.. I had a slight panic attack last night when I could not find the binder that held this story in it... but I found it this morning. So here you go, kinda short update, but the next one will probably be long, and I'll hopefully get it up for you guys soon. Oh yeah, and for those of you who don' t know I put up links to character sketches in my profile so if you want an other window into my warped mind go ahead and check it out. Felicity's in there too so if your curiosity is strong go ease it with some visual stimuli.


	4. Launchpad's Family

-**Chapter Four**-

Launchpad's Family

It was a peaceful morning in suburbia. It was still early and most of the locals were still snoozing. Jack, the manager of McDuck's automotive repair, however was hard at work. He had some minor repairs to attend to before the rest of his staff was due to come in, He had the place to himself for at least an other hour and a half. Which suited him fine, nothing was worse than people milling around telling him what to do, for Pete's sake HE was the boss after all. He exhaled in annoyance as he realized the timing on the carburetor he'd been working on was totally off. The only employee he wouldn't mind coming in and giving him a hand he had just unfortunately gotten off the phone with. He sounded so under weather he could have given it an oil change, but he didn't mind it when McQuack called out. He seldom did, and really the only thing that made Jack irritable about him not coming in today was not having him around. Launchpad was in a word, reliable. He had never met anyone like him, he was a genuinely good person, those were hard to come by nowadays. He was just contemplating on whether or not he should take a smoke break when someone knocked on the main door. He rolled his eyes.

"We're closed!" He proclaimed aggravated. The knocking continued. He put down the wrench he held with a loud annoyed "clank" and stormed over to the door.

"The sign says 'WE OPEN AT 8' can't you read?" He growled as he threw open the door. He immediately wished he hadn't.

"Aye, but ah thought, bein' that's mah name plastered on yoor sign that ah might have some leeway."

"M...Mister McDuck!" Jack fought the urge faint. He could barely believe it, the world famous Scrooge McDuck was at his door and he had just told him to get lost. He'd have to recover quick if he wanted to keep his job. The surly old duck was in a smart navy suit and a top hat, and was accompanied by a young duck (probably in his early twenties, Jack decided) who was dressed in a dark purple suit, yellow suit and a maroon tie.

"I'm sorry sir.. I didn't know it was you. Come in come in!"

Jack moved aside and let them in to the establishment. The way the building was laid out the main doors led into the office and a door to the right was the entrance to the garage. He closed the door behind them and wished he had straightened things up a bit...ever. Scrooge surveyed the office with out a shred of interest, his companion looked as if he was about to collapse in exhaustion.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee...uh," He watched the zombie like young man cautiously. "..a chair?"

"No thank yoo. Jack, ah see yoo're aware of who ah am." Said the duck with a bi focaled gaze. Jack felt his nerves act up, Scrooge knew his name... was that a good thing or a bad thing? He continued. "This however, is mah accountant Fenton Crackshell." Jack's face must have reflected his thoughts because Scrooge quickly added. "We're not here on business lad."

"Oh... well what can I help you with then Mr. McDuck?" He said with a blissful sigh of relief.

"We're here to speak with one o' yoor employees."

"Yeah? Well, I'm afraid I'm the only one here at the moment. Mind if I ask who it is?"

"Launchpad McQuack."

He felt the fear for his job return.

"M...McQuack? Actually... he just called out. Said he was sick... he really didn't sound good." Jack added helpfully. Why was Scrooge here looking for Launchpad, with his accountant no less? The two men exchanged a brief glance.

"Do you have his address and phone number by any chance?" Said the gaunt looking accountant.

"Oh yeah sure thing!" Jack dug around on the cluttered desk and pulled out his personnel file. He scrambled around further to find a clean piece of paper, he cursed how unorganized he was. His company didn't seem to mind or notice however. Mr. Crackshell looked like he was ready to fall asleep standing up, but he tried not to stare. Triumphant, he scrawled the information on a barely crinkled sheet of paper and handed it to Scrooge. "Launchpad isn't in any kind of trouble is he?"

"Not as far as we know."

The alarm went off just when he was convinced he was going to be pulled back into sleep. Drake slammed his hand down hard on the clock and opened an eye to see if he had broken the evil machine, no such luck. He felt like hell and the cheek that had received Launchpad's fury was tender and ripe with pain. Coffee. That's what he needed. When he got out into the hall, she was already waiting for him.

"Gosalyn... what are you wearing that thing for?"

She tapped her knuckles on the football helmet loudly with a grin.

"I'm not going to school today." She crossed her arms in a matter of fact kind of way. The red and white striped helmet didn't really compliment the purple nightshirt she wore. He just gave her his best fatherly look.

"Oh really? I beg to differ."

"If you want me to go you gotta tackle me!" She shouted happily and like a shot she bolted down the stairs.

He never did get the fatherly look down. He covered his face in his hands wearily.

"Ugh... Gosalyn it's too early for this.." He whined.

"Great! So you forfeit then?" She bellowed from the foot of the stairs. "Keen gear! I've got a whole day to play wiffle boy until my eyes fall out!"

"All right, have it your way!" He swung himself over the banister, bypassing the stairs and gave chase after the giggling little girl. She tore through the house like a rampaging elephant with him close on her heels. He grabbed at the back of her shirt as she turned the corner into the living room, but only got a handful of air. He came around the corner in time to see her pounce on the sleeping mechanic who was sprawled out on the couch.

"Help me out here Launchpad!" She commanded as he awakened with a groan. Drake managed to catch her around the torso and picked her up. She laughed in protest, her arms and legs flailing. "May day Launchpad! I need back up!"

" No way kiddo..." Grumbled the hungover grease monkey.

"Okay." Drake grunted as she tried to squirm out of his grip. She grabbed onto everything she could to try and stop him from transporting her into the kitchen, to no avail. He plopped her down in a chair at the table. "I win, now it's time to get ready for school."

"Best two out of three?" Her green eyes looked up at him hopefully through the face guard.

"Nope."

"Rats. Maybe I should join the great Darkwing hunt and tell them how wicked you are for making me go to that horrible place." She teased.

"What's the penalty for such a crime, would you say?" He asked with a smirk as he grabbed her a bowl and a box of Zombie O's.

"Last time I checked it was the electric chair."

"You wouldn't do that to your old man now would ya?" He replied with a feigned concern as he put on a pot of coffee.

"Maybe, because on top of all that he always forgets the milk." She giggled as she hopped up and sped to the refrigerator. Launchpad shuffled out of her way as he made his way to an empty chair.

"Oo, I hear there's zero tolerance for that lately." Launchpad added playfully.

"You're not kidding!" Gosalyn squeaked as she drowned her morbid looking cereal in milk.

"Can I get some of that coffee Drake? I feel like a biplane crashed in my brain."

"By all means." Drake eyed Launchpad as he put his head on the table. Did he remember any of what had happened last night? Gosalyn noisily chewed on her bits of fruit flavored puffed rice, that were fashioned too look vaguely like brains. It was interesting to see her maneuver the spoon through the bars that were fashioned to protect the wearer's face.

"Hey dad, can Honk and I go to the city park after school today? It's not a big deal, the bus drops kids off there all the time and it's right on your way home from work so you could pick us up!" She said breathlessly between soggy spoonfuls.

"I don' t see why not, but you better not get into any trouble."

"Dad, c'mon." She said as she swallowed the last of her cereal with a sweet smile. "This is _me_ we're talking about here."

"_I know_. That's why I said it." He put a mug in front of Launchpad. "If you're done eating go take that helmet off and get dressed! You know Honker hates it when you miss the bus."

"Aye aye captain!" She saluted him. Her hand still held the spoon which made an amusing "clunk" on the helmet. There was a horrible scraping of her chair as she got up and bolted away.

There was an awkward silence after the racket that was Gosalyn was gone. Drake finished the last of his coffee, it's effect was weak but noticeable, he'd have to invest in another cupful to feel alive though. He was halfway through his second cup when Launchpad spoke.

"About last night DW..." He said not taking his eyes off of the table top. "About this McDuck thing... I know that it's probably wasn't you but..."

"**_Probably_**!" Drake choked into his mug in rage. "LP I did not, I repeat did **NOT** steal anything from Scrooge McDuck!"

"Can you blame me for being suspicious?" Launchpad raised his bloodshot eyes to him.

"Yes. Yes I can." He spat coldly in response as he tossed his empty cup into the sink. He was angry, tired, and his face was aching from where his so called best friend had slugged him. He wasn't going to stand here and let him make him any angrier than he already was. " I'm not in the mood to talk about this right now. I've gotta go get ready for work." Drake stormed out of the kitchen his temper fuming.

There was just something in about the way Uncle Scrooge had insisted that they stayed put that made him unnaturally restless. Uncle Scrooge and Fenton had left "on business" early

that morning, and he knew that his great uncle was hiding something from them. He tried to peak Huey's interest but lately his brother had stopped 'indulging in the adventures of their youth', as he bitterly put it. Louie was completely fed up with him, Dewey was his brother too, Huey had no right to make it seem like he was the only one who missed him. Maybe he wanted to get away from Huey, or he just couldn't stand being around their over protective nanny Mrs. Beakley today, but he had to get out of there. Fortunately for him, _she_ was up for sneaking out as well.

Webbigail Vanderquack wasn't really his sister but it sure felt like she was. She was Mrs. Beakley's granddaughter and she had been living with them since he and his brothers moved in with Uncle Scrooge all those years ago. She was a few years younger than them, and always tagged along after them which only added to their sibling like bond. She was a goody goody two shoes, a girly girl, and kind of a hindrance but he was glad she had escaped the hotel to keep him company.

They had started off in a clean, store lined part of the city, where towering windows were filled with colorful displays of the latest trends in clothing that made Webby giggle with glee. He'd been living in Duckburg most of his life with his great uncle and had that city memorized like the back of his hand. _How different could this city be_, he thought childishly to himself. They wandered the streets excitedly and in high spirits, having momentarily escaped the thoughts of the morbid deeds that had brought them here. He had to trot to keep up with the little pink dressed girl's fast pace. Webby was really taken with the fashions of this city and kept rushing ahead to the next store window, her big blue eyes wide and glittering with fascination. He could hardly believe that this great city could produce a fiend like Darkwing Duck. It was around two forty-five when the scenery took a turn for the worse. Far were the glimmering store fronts and friendly faces. They hadn't paid much attention to what turns they made and now the buildings rose around them menacingly. Webby latched onto his side like she was nailed there. Surely, Louie thought to himself, Mrs. Beakley would have the police looking for them by now... they'd been gone for hours.

"Louie... I don't like it here." She peeped. The street they walked on was dirty and the only sign of life was the occasional person lingering in an alley, watching them eerily as they passed.

"It's okay Webby. We've just got to get back to a main street." He reassured her. She held onto him painfully hard. He wished she wouldn't look so scared, it made them look vulnerable.

They reached the end of the block and saw trees peeking through the grey mass of the looming city only two blocks to the left. She gripped his arm tighter.

"Can we go to the park please?" She begged.

"Okay. It's probably the safest place to stay anyway. There are sure to be cops to help us get back to the hotel." He felt the feathers on the back of his neck tingle. He had felt it ever since they left, like someone was watching them. He sped up nearly dragging Webby behind him toward the safety of the park. As they ran he could swear he heard a faint echo of high heels behind them.

The park stretched out around them in all directions. A small lake was before them along with a statue of a portly looking old man. He had expected to see throngs of people and smiling officers patrolling the scene, but it appeared to be quite deserted. This place was nothing at all like Duckburg.

"Great." He grumbled. "What are we going to do now? Where can we find a police man in this place?"

"Why don't we ask them?" Webby pointed at the statue's base.

_Professor Jonah Waddlemeyer, a great man who served the greater good. Presented to St. Canard Central Park in Memoriam by S.H.U.S.H. _

Gosalyn read the inscription for the thousandth time as she drummed her fingers absently on the side of the base. She turned her eyes up to the white marble that was suppose to resemble her grandfather, but she thought the artist really missed the mark. Her thoughts were not on this now however as she let out and aggravated sigh as she flopped onto the grass. Honker looked over the top of the thick book he was reading to look at her.

"How are we going to convince people that dad's innocent when everyone is so keen on catching him?" She asked him grumpily as she ripped a few blades of grass out of the ground.

"Well, we could try to find some solid proof that he wasn't responsible." Replied the nasally voice of her companion.

"Yeah and where are we gunna find that?" She huffed irritably. She raised her eyes just in time to see a girl point at her. The girl had curly white hair, a pink dress, and a matching big pink bow neatly fastened on her head. She was with a boy clad in blue jeans along with a green hat and shirt. The children were quickly making their way over to them.

"Uh oh, look out Honk, pretty princess alert." She sneered under her breath.

The pale yellow book worm looked up through his thick red framed glasses and after a moment of silent observation closed his book. The kids stopped a few feet away from them.

"Excuse us, but do you know where we can find a police man?" Came the dainty cute voice that made Gos want to toss her cookies.

"Whadda we look like an information booth?" She snapped. She knew she had no real reason to be rude to the little girl, but everything about her just rubbed her the wrong way. To her delight the girl looked quite put out by her statement.

"Well..no. But we seem to have gotten lost..." Said the girl timidly.

"Where do you live?" Honker asked helpfully, Gosalyn gave him a side long glare that he didn't see.

"Not in this crappy city." Said the green outfitted boy watching Gosalyn with a look similar to the one she had just aimed at Honker.

"Hey buddy if you don't like it here go back where you came from." She snarled.

"That's what we're _trying_ to do." He snarled right back.

"We're staying at the Bilton..." Said the little girl who hadn't paid any attention to the bickering and had sat herself neatly in front of Honker.

"The Bilton? Yowch! What are your parents loaded or something?" Gosalyn said forgetting her un-necessary difficult demeanor. She watched as the kids exchanged a smug look.

"You could say that." Replied the boy as he moved in closer to stand beside the girl.

"Well, you traveled quite a bit off course..." Honker explained to the big blue eyed girl. Gosalyn noticed a slight tinge of red on his cheeks as he spoke to the cutesy air head. He was a bit flustered and he hadn't paid attention to a single word she'd said since this pink nightmare showed up, she felt a match drift dangerously close to the fuse of her temper. Honker continued, "It's about fifteen blocks through the city, six of those are pretty nasty. Maybe you should call your parents to pick you up instead of trying to find your way back on your own"

The girl blinked, her long well kept eyelashes fluttering obnoxiously.

"Oh dear, but we don't have a phone, and we don't even know the number of the hotel." She said hopelessly.

"Well we've got a ride coming to pick us up maybe you could ...OOF!"

Gosalyn shoved Honker angrillly and his flustered sentence was cut off. The green capped boy eyed her carefully.

"We can get back on our own, we're not babies." He huffed.

"Could have fooled me..."Gosalyn growled under breath as she glared at the girl who was quickly becoming the bane of her existence.

"What did you say little girl?" Snapped the boy.

"Hey who are you calling little?" She roared as she sprang to her feet. The flame danced closer to her fuse, but she had promised Drake she wouldn't get in trouble... she had to calm down. This boy was a good foot taller than her but she was far from intimidated.

"You tell me short stuff."

"Maybe you should get lost before I knock your teeth out greenie." She clenched her fists as she tried to count down from ten in her head.

"Oh please don't fight!" Begged the girl's high pitched voice.

"That's tough talk for such a LITTLE girl." Sneered the boy.

"I could crunch you like a stale corn chip!" Gosalyn flared.

"Bring it on Thumbellina."

She grit her teeth in anger. Suddenly his hazel eyes snapped to something behind her and widened in surprise. She was about to yell at him when a smile lit up his face and a familiar voice rang out from behind her.

"_Louie_? _Webby_!"

"**Launchpad**!" The two rich children cried in unison and with out a backwards glance the boy, apparently named Louie, pushed past her.

She turned and saw the duck she had come to know as family embrace these children like they were his own. He held them in a crushing hug and laughed happier that she had ever heard him laugh before. Her throat felt tight as he set them free of the hug, a smile of ecstacy on his face.

"Look at you two!" Launchpad cried through a brilliant smile. "You're so big Louie, you sprouted up like a beanstalk! And Webby look at how pretty you are! You're a regular fairy princess!"

"Oh Launchpad we're so glad to see you!" Giggled Webby as she threw her arms around his neck.

"Aw, it's good to see you too Angel, but what are you kids doing here?"

"We felt like exploring." Louie smiled. Launchpad put a big hand on the boy's head and pushed down the rim of his hat playfully, with a hearty chuckle.

"Why am I not surprised?"

"We got lost Launchpad and it was **soooo** scary!" Webby clung to him like a brain sucking mutant to Einstein.

"It wasn't that bad Webby." Said Louie indignantly.

"No, she had every right to be scared. St. Canard isn't as peaceful as Duckburg, you kids are lucky no one recognized you. " Launchpad sounded almost fatherly in tone and Gosalyn felt it sting like a scorpion. He loved them. She had never seen him so happy and she felt the jealousy pound through her veins. She couldn't stand here and watch this anymore.

"C'mon Honk, ...let's get out of here." She growled.

"B..but Gosalyn... what about your dad?" Spluttered the flustered Muddlefoot.

"Gos? Honker?"

She folded her arms ill tempered-ly as Launchpad approached them. He held Webby with one arm and Louie was right on his heels.

"They were going to help us get back to our hotel!" Squeaked the pink clad demon.

"You know them Launchpad?" Said Louie as he looked Gosalyn up and down.

"Sure do, they're good friends of mine." He smiled.

"Well don't bother with us. We were just leaving." Gosalyn grabbed her book bag and shot a glare at Honker who quickly did the same.

"Now Gos, you know you've gotta stay here until your dad comes..." Launchpad watched her looking thoroughly confused. Webby hopped out of his arms and pranced in front of Gosalyn, blocking her path with a curtsy.

"How rude of me not to introduce myself, I'm Webbigail Vanderquack and any friend of Launchpad is a friend of mine." She smiled.

"I..I'm Honker Muddlefoot pleased to meet your acquaintance..." Fumbled the pint sized brainiac.

Gosalyn elbowed him in the ribs as he went to shake the girl's hand. She was about to explode. She had to put some serious distance between her and this girl who was everything she wasn't. This girl who made Honker and Launchpad forget about her entirely. She entertained the thought of pushing Webby in the lake when another voice sang the "perfect" little girl's name.

"Webby! Louie!" The voice belonged to an elderly duck who was rushing over to the children a younger man on his coat tails.

"Uncle Scrooge!" Peeped Webby and she threw herself into the old man's arms.

"Ah thank heaven's we found yoo. Mrs. Beakley's been goin' batty for th' last three hours!"

"I"m sorry Uncle Scrooge, but look who we found!"

Launchpad shifted uncomfortably as the bi focaled gaze fell on him.

"Heya Mr. McD, Fenton." He said with a weak smile.

Again Gosalyn felt invisible as she was disregarded without so much as a glance as the two grown men flocked to the barrel chested duck.

"Yoor lookin' well lad." Smiled Scrooge.

"Eh, I've been better." Launchpad eyed the young man and gave him a sympathetic smile. "And I take it the same goes for you Fenton?"

"You're a hard duck to track down McQuack." Fenton smiled while they exchanged a friendly handshake.

"I see the kids are still giving you a run for your money bin eh Mr. McD?" Launchpad said with a hint of the smile he had given the children.

"Aye, which is why Fenton an' aye were oot lookin' fer yoo." Scrooge patted Webby's head softly.

"Looking for me?" Launchpad repeated puzzled.

"Aye, Ah'm sure you've heard aboot what has happened..."

"Yeah..." Launchpad turned his eyes sadly to the grass.

"That dirty bastard Darkwing Duck has got to pay!" Snarled Louie.

That did it. The fuse inside Gosalyn was lit and the explosion happened. She found herself not jealous, not sad, she was on fire. With a beastly growl she tossed her book bag to the ground and threw herself on top of the boy, punching him in the face. Anger flowed through her and she hit anyone who tried to touch her. How dare he call her father such names! After all that had been taken away from her by these children she would not stand by and let them talk about him that way. She slammed her fist into his face again. Her blood pounded in her head but over the din she heard him.

"**_GOSALYN!_**"

A strong pair of arms closed around her and pried her off of the boy who stared at her in shock. She kicked out at Louie who was getting ready to come after her. The duck Launchpad had called Fenton quickly held onto him, stopping his progress. She wiggled madly trying to break free as Drake backed them up, putting a considerable distance between the combatants. The faces that she saw were alight with outrage and anger, all save for Launchpad who just looked disappointed. She was put on the ground and was quickly, forcefully turned around. Drake's ice blue eyes bore into her.

"See here nowe! Yoo should teach that little monster some manners! Or at least git her a mussle!" Snarled a Scottish accent from behind her.

She watched Drake's eyes snap to the speaker with a frozen glare. There was a trace of panic in those eyes for an instant, she figured he had just recognized Scrooge.

"Watch your mouth McDuck." Drake said flatly.

Guilt swept over her. He had asked her one simple thing to try and do and she not only couldn't do it but she picked a fight with the very people who wanted to do him harm. And even though she did do it here he was defending her, standing up for her. She had to explain it to him.

"Dad... he was talking about Darkwing..." She felt the tears build in her eyes.

His gaze returned to her and she saw the tenderness in his tired eyes. Her pain eased, he saw her... she was far from invisible to him.

"Darkwing Duck is a felon who will be punished for what he has done." Said Fenton as Louie brushed himself out of his grip.

Drake straightened up and the frost was back in his eyes.

"It's a shame what has happened to you Mr. McDuck but there are still some of us here that trust this so called 'felon'." He shot a meaningful glare at Launchpad who swiftly looked away.

"Well it's your trust that is keeping him free to carry out his dastardly deeds!" Shouted Fenton. Gosalyn couldn't help but feel that there was something about that voice she recognized. "How can you deny what you're eyes have seen? Don't be stupid! The only hero in this city at the moment is Gizmoduck!"

Gosalyn felt the rage pump through her, the heat run through her like a freight train. Drake would put this clown in his place for sure! He'd knock his lights out! But when she looked at him he was just standing there, cool and collected as if this man had just commented on nothing more than the weather.

"You could be right. But I prefer **_not_** to jump to conclusions." Replied Drake dismissively. She noticed how he was carefully regarding the mouthy mallard. He must have been a snarling beast on the inside after all the purple suited duck had said but he held his composure of nonchalantlness to the tee. There was a glint of suspicion in his eyes, what did he see that she didn't? She realized Fenton was staring at her.

"Hey... I recognize you... You're the granddaughter of this guy." He jabbed a finger at the statue. " You were all over the news for weeks, Darkwing Duck was involved in that mess too if I recall correctly..." His brown eyes were locked on her thoughtfully. "He helped you escape from Taurus Bulba, or so they say. Is that why you're defending him?"

"That's right. He's a hero... and nothing any of you or that bucket of bolts Gizmoduck says can change my mind!" She growled.

"Well the time will come when you can't deny the truth anymore little miss. I just hope that you're prepared for the disappointment when it comes." Fenton turned his eyes back to Drake.

"Shouldn't you be running along home now?" Spat Louie as he wiped the blood from the fresh cut under his right eye.

"Louie..." Sighed Launchpad desperately.

"No, he's right." Said Drake in an airy tone as he took Gosalyn's hand. "We've got a lot to do. I hope everything works out for you Mr. McDuck, and I do apologize for my excitable ward." He looked down at her. "Let's go kiddo."

She collected her things and Honker quickly followed suit. The three of them began to walk away, Honker gave the angry group one final glance and they were gone.

Launchpad was torn. He watched them walk away, he wanted to follow them but part of him wanted to stay. He struggled silently, what should he do? Drake was livid with him and Gosalyn looked like she was ready to cry. They were his friends, his family and he was deserting them. But then at the same time, he looked around at the familiar faces, this was his family once too. Scrooge, Louie, Webby , and Fenton, he had known them all so well and for years before he came here. Did that mean they won by seniority? The truth was he still couldn't shake the rumors out of his head. The pain was still strong in his heart, it was a horrible thing to admit.. but he didn't trust Drake. So, as much as it pained him, he chose to stay.

Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

To all of you who have reviewed THANK YOU:D Really, it means a lot to me.

**And there has been a minor edit to chapter three **the triplets aren't fourteen.. They're twelve I neglected to catch my mix up in my proofreading... but yes. They're twelve.

And here is my self indulgent chapter. I always wondered what good old Launchpad would do if given the difficult choice between the staying with the Mallards or the McDuck clan. Though in this situation he had an extra factor to help him decide, but I still wonder.

All right, so I have a big problem with breaking things up into good sized chapters so far with this story. They're either kinda short or super long. Pleh. Any way, we're not quite done with the scene in the park but this seemed like an excellent place to stop it so I took it. Just a heads up the next few chapters will be a lot like this one. I have so many characters' heads to invade and they split up and more characters come along... aaahh so it will be a while until DW gets to do some action type stuff. But I hope you all will find it interesting... cuz I think it is.:3


	5. Chapter 5

-Chapter Five-

A Gift From Glomgold

The Mallards and Muddlefoot were out of sight for a few moments before anyone spoke again.

"Some people will never learn," Huffed Louie angrily. "How can they back up that maniac? What will it take to make them see? If Darkwing Duck comes for me or Webby?"

"Oh.." sobbed Webby lightly. "You don't really think he would...?"

"It is possible Webby darlin'." Said Scrooge his gaze locked on Launchpad. "Which is why we were hopin' yoo would help us lad."

"What?" Launchpad said his thoughts snapping away from his friends.

"There is no tellin' what the devil will do to get to me. An' ah will not have the children in danger."

"I don't think Darkwing would..." Launchpad started, as a coldness swept over him. Did Scrooge really think that DW would hurt innocent children? His heart fell slightly, was he even sure himself? He couldn't be sure of anything anymore.

"Th' man is deranged Launchpad, there is no tellin' what he'll do next. Ah was hopin' yoo'd aid us tryin to foil him." Scrooge spoke kindly but his words were like the crackle of electricity warming up an electric chair. Mr.McDuck didn't know that he was asking him to betray his best friend.

"I..."He fumbled.

"Nowe ah don't expect yoo to stalk th' streets ready to kill. Ah was just hopin' that, well.. since no one here knows that yoo are so close with mah family... would yoo mind keepin me nephews an' Webby with yoo? Just until we settle this?"

Louie and Webby's faces split in excited smiles. Launchpad's panic faded, he felt humbled by this great show of trust but, he felt wary.

"Mr. McD, isn't there someone else... someone safer the kids could stay with?" He asked sadly.

"Nonsense. Ah know yoo feel responsible for what happened to Dewey, but ah've told yoo it wasn't yoor fault. Yoo couldn't have known that th' plane would give out like that..." Scrooge gave Launchpad's arm a sympathetic pat. "Ah wouldn't trust anyone else to keep them safe... please?"

"Oh please Launchpad!" Squealed Webby, her blue eyes turned hopefully up to him. Louie's face was etched in a silent plea. He couldn't escape it.

"Okay." He said with a light smile.

A cheer arose from the children and a sincere smile of joy crossed the elderly face he had so much respect for. Scrooge clapped his hand happily on Launchpad's shoulder.

"Splendid! Mrs. Beakley will be overjoyed to know that yoo'll be takin' care o' the children! Yoo've got to come back to th' hotel to get Huey an' I'll see yoo're all well fed before yoo depart!"

Scrooge led the group out of the park. Launchpad hesitated, he glanced at the statue of Gosalyn's grandfather, as if expecting it to come to life and give him some advice. The marble remained stead fast and with a sigh he followed the happy children. As they approached the edge of the park where Mr. McDuck's limo was waiting for them a hand grabbed his arm and held him back a bit. Launchpad turned to face Fenton.

"Can I ask you something Launchpad?" He said in a serious whisper.

"Uh... sure." Launchpad was taken back by the stern look on the usually chipper face.

"Do you know that girl's father?"

"Yeah, that's Drake. Why?" He knew he probably should have said no, but he didn't want to lie. He was a horrible liar, and it would only come back to haunt him later. That, and he knew Fenton's secret. Gizmoduck would be able to tell right away if he was lying. Fenton spaced out in thought upon hearing the name. After a moment disappointment and sheer exhaustion filled the brown eyes.

"He seemed familiar, should I know him?" He asked wearily.

Launchpad fought the urge to spas out. He could tell him, and see for sure if Darkwing was innocent. But... but he couldn't stab Drake in the back! Gosalyn's face stricken with the sadness he had last seen plague her nagged at the back of his brain.

"No. No I don't think so."

Bud Flood sat with his head rested firmly on the hardwood bar top. He had been awoken this morning by the pain of his own head and the sour churning of his stomach. Hangovers always struck him more like a flu, and everyone knows that you combat a flu with liquids. He found it helped to fight booze with booze. In a mix of illness and drunkenness the world was spinning and blurry. Felicity was gone by the time he came to, he couldn't believe how much she had changed. How **_this man_** had changed her, swiped away his true love from under his nose without warning. Someone sat on the stool beside him. A swirly sort of person in a hazy black suit. He wanted to snap at him, tell him to scram, that he should go find another seat, when his neighbor spoke.

"You're looking like hell Mr. Flood. Or can I call you Bud?" Said the dark voice.

"... go sit on it..." He spluttered.

"Hmm, I see. No wonder why Felicity left you. She's with him now I suppose?"

Bud jolted in shock, his head spun and he tried hopelessly to focus on the person beside him.

"Who are you?" He growled.

"Oh yes, how rude of me. The name's Duncan," He felt a strong feathered hand shake his. "Duncan Glomgold."

He almost swallowed his tongue upon registering the last name.

"Glomgold?" He choked trying to blink the woozy vision away.

"That's right. I'm the benefactor of your little water enterprise. I'm sorry we weren't able to meet under better circumstances." His voice betrayed his words with insincerity and a cold snicker.

"Aren't you supposed to be Scottish?" The question spilled out of him before he could stop himself.

"Just because my Uncle Flintheart has a ridiculous accent doesn't mean I have to have one as well." Growled Glomgold irritably.

"Why are you here?" He asked the fuzzy duck next to him.

"I'm looking out for you and our business, of course. Let's face it Bud, if you'll pardon the irony, your water business is circling the drain."

"I've had a lot on my mind lately." He snapped impatiently.

"Yes I know. Felicity is off gallivanting with that narcissistic rooster. I know all about what is 'on your mind'."

"Rooster?" He repeated in shock.

"It seems I know more than you do." Laughed the deep voice.

"You know who he is? Where can I find the bastard!" Bud snarled as he grabbed a fistful of soft black fabric.

"Easy Bud. He isn't your problem." Glomgold knocked his hand away like it was no more than a fly. "You need to deal with her."

"It's no use... I can't get through to her."

"You haven't tried this."

Bud felt a small bottle being closed in his hand. His stomach twisted with an ill feeling, the man before him skewed further in a bout of wavy double vision.

"W..what is it?" He asked in a sickly, shaky groan.

"Something I've had my best scientist working on for a while. A little drop will make her more 'in tune' to your feelings. Just a drop though, don't use too much friend."

"But what is it? Is it some kind of drug? What's it made of?" He held the small glass bottle tight. It sounded fishy, but if it could do what he said...

"Don't worry it's harmless in small doses. And it's not some crazy street drug, it's botanical. She won't get hurt, but she will get to see what she's done. It should straighten her out I think." Glomgold knocked back a shot of dark liquid and dropped a bill on the bar.

"Wait. Why would you give me this?" His impaired vision restored itself so that he could make out a pair of ice blue eyes. "Not that I don't appreciate..."

"I've told you Bud, your being drowned in bourbon is bad for business. Plus, I know how it is with women. Someone is always out to snatch up the one you want." Glomgold gave him a pat on the back.

"Thank you..." Bud spoke softly.

"No problem," He stood, "Remember now, just a drop."

The giant main lobby of the high security S.H.U.S.H. building loomed around them. Fenton couldn't help but feel insignificant among the large portraits the best agents of the organization's past. Scrooge on the other hand took in the decor with mild impatience. He certainly was a great man. A cheap employer, a frugal spender, had a foul temper, but a heart of gold and a sharp mind still powered him. There were times Fenton found himself wondering what Scrooge hadn't done, it seemed like he had tried his hand at everything in his life time. He had worked his fingers to bone to start the snowballing success of his financial endeavors. And even though he was the richest man in the world, he still strove for more. Being such a powerful figure it was no wonder that he wanted to be sure he had a reliable body guard.

That was how Gizmoduck was born. Scrooge had commissioned a bright young inventor named Gyro Gearloose to construct the perfect body guard. Instead of opting for a robotic brain they decided it would be better to have it manned by someone he could trust. At the time he had been recently appointed as Scrooge's "accountant". Really all he did was glance at the quadrillionare's money and told him if a penny was missing, no one handled Mr. McDuck's funds but him. When he overheard the discussion of who would man the suit he couldn't help but volunteer. There would never be a bright future for Fenton Crackshell, but if he was Gizmoduck, he could be someone. Needless to say, for reasons he still didn't really understand he was appointed the position. If he had known how many bones he'd break, bruises he'd have to nurse, concussions he'd have to sustain, and all the personal events he would have to miss, would he still have done it? His tired eyes ached, ah yes... how could he forget the severe lack of sleep.

A door swung open and a massive grizzly bear in a neat navy suit lumbered toward them. He was a surly looking person with small beady grey eyes and a constant scowl burned on his face. The bear extended a great hand to Scrooge.

"Gud day Mr. McDuk. I hope yoo haven't been waitink long." Came the gnarled voice with a heavy Russian accent.

"Not too long. Thank yoo for agreeing to aid us, Agent...?"

" I am Chief Agent Vladimir Goudenov Grizzlikof, and de pleasure is mine. Anythink that vill bring Darkwink Duk down ees worth de effort." The beady eyes scanned Fenton and he could have sworn a smile almost crept across his snout. "And yoo must be Mr. Crakshell, glad to see yoo haf left de unicycle at home." He extended the paw to him.

"Well, as you said... anything to bring him down." He shook the hand that threatened to crush his. He was surprised to hear Grizzlikof's comment about Gizmoduck, but then again he knew that Mr. McDuck had informed the highest law enforcement bodies of his secret identity, for security reasons. And S.H.U.S.H. was as high as they go.

"Do yoo mind if ah ask why Director Hooter is not present?" Scrooge inquired plainly.

The bear's face contorted in a strange mixture of disgust and respect.

"I am afraid de Direktor holds a different view of de vigilante."

"I've seen quite a bit of that lately." Fenton grumbled distastefully.

"Eet is of no importance to yoor request, however. He has allowed yoo full access to all de information we haf gathered on Darkwink Duk." Grizzlikof led them to the door he had come out of.

"Well be sure to extend mah gratitude to Director Hooter, and we will be certain to expose th' truth of this, 'vigilante' as yoo so aptly put it." Scrooge said as they walked down the long hall beyond the door, his cane piercing the statement with it's rhythmic clanking.

"Let us hope so." The bear replied with a sigh. He mashed a pass code into a keypad and opened the unmarked door before them. The room on the other side was an unremarkable conference room. There was a long wooden table surrounded by plush chairs in the center of the room, a stack of boxes were neatly placed on the table.

"Here yoo are. I apologize but I kannot stay with yoo. Eef yoo should need me however," He jabbed a large finger at an intercom on the wall near the door. "Just hit de red button an I vill be able to answer anythink yoo like."

Fenton stopped paying attention to the Agent and moved into the room. He moved to the boxes and lifted the lid off of the one closest to him, thick file upon thick file stared up at him. He started to listen to Grizzlikof's speech again.

"Those are all photocopies of case files. Yoo are welcom to mark them as yoo wish. They kannot leave the premises however. Eef that is all yoo need I must continue with my wurk."

"By all means. Thank yoo once again, Agent Grizzlikof. It was a pleasure meeting yoo." Mr. McDuck shook the massive hand again, and the bear left.

Fenton let out a low whistle as he thumbed through the large file he held.

"Curse me kilts! Are they all that size?" Scrooge blinked.

"Yeah, these S.H.U.S.H. guys are ridiculously thorough."

"Well, we'll just have to get together what we can, for today." Scrooge sat down in one of the big chairs and dragged a box toward him. "Dinnet worry lad. We'll get him."

Fenton was so tired of being told that. _We'll get him_, when it came down to it, there was no _we. He'd _have to get him, this whole thing was riding on his shoulders. He had already seen what the caped cad was capable of and to be honest, he wasn't feeling too confident. He sat opposite of his employer and half heartedly dove into the case files. He would have to find something, _anything_ he could use to even the odds.

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales, and all related characters are © Disney

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Ah relatively short update here, but I was bored and figured I'd put up something. Not much to say but thanks for the reviews and you guys are the best! Oh and Duncan had a secret little cameo appearance in Roots of Revenge... and you earn a neat little bit of information if you figure it out. But if you're too lazy maybe I'll tell you where to look next chapter... let me know.


	6. Chapter 6

-Chapter Six-

With a Kiss

It was around six thirty when Drake had finally gotten Gosalyn to calm down. She had been on a full rampage about the McDuck children. Everything about them seemed to throw gasoline on an already well fed fire inside her. She fumed at length about each of them and how she should have done the boy, apparently named Louie, more harm then she already had after what he had said. She was in rare form and he couldn't help but laugh at her tirade a few times, each laugh he was quickly scolded for. She finally seemed to have gotten it out of her system though as she now stared blankly at the peas on her dinner plate. She had been quiet for a while now, and her anger seemed to have taken a turn toward something else.

"You all right Gos?" He asked carefully testing the water, he didn't want to send her into another frenzy.

"..." She looked up at him a hint of confusion in her emerald eyes. "Is that what I'm supposed to be like?"

"No, those are vegetables, you're a person..." He started with a wry smile but the look in those eyes stopped him.

"I mean, like **_her_**." She said the word like it was another name to describe a foul creature that tormented villagers nightly.

"Who? That Webby girl?" He blinked.

"Yes!" She cried in defeat. "Is that what I'm supposed to be like? Should I curl my hair and eyelashes? Should I wear pink dresses with bows and matching shoes? Is that's what's wrong with me?" Her eyes bore into his seeking answers.

"There is nothing wrong with you." He said firmly and after a moment added cautiously. "And you don't have to do any of that other stuff... unless you want to."

"Well, if there isn't something I'm doing wrong then how come Launchpad doesn't treat me the way he treats her?" Her eyes twinkled with a build up of tears she tried to repress.

Drake could to nothing but stare at her for a moment. She looked so confused, so hurt.

"Do you want him to? You want him to call you 'princess Gossy', and all those silly things?" He could feel his brow crinkle in puzzlement.

"Well..." She turned her eyes back to her peas. "...no. But he really loves them... he didn't even notice I was there."

Drake sighed.

"Gosalyn, I don't think it's as bad as it seems. I mean, he loves you too, after all he did try to adopt you remember?"

"I guess." She bitterly stabbed at the green spheres.

"You know I love you and think your just right, don't you?"

She smiled lightly as she lifted her eyes back to him.

"I know Dad."

"Good, because I don't know how I'd hold up if I came home one day and found you in a dress, a bow and matching shoes. I'm not sure my old heart could take that kind of shock." He smiled as he dramatically clasped his chest. She gave him a light chuckle in return but when she spoke again it was soft and serious.

"You'll always see me won't you Drake?" She asked him desperately. " You won't look right past me like I'm invisible, like everyone else did?"

"Honey," He said with a sympathetic shake of his head. "I wouldn't even know how too, and if I did somehow figure that out I still wouldn't, out of fear of what you'd do to me in retaliation."

She smiled brightly with a laugh and popped some peas in her mouth.

"I don't see what's so great about that old fart Scrooge McDuck..."

"Ah, not this again..." He sighed, she ignored him.

"... He seemed like a real jerk to me! Him and that Fenton nerd! What a Gizmoduck groupie, you should have knocked his block off for talking like that dad..."

"You think?"

"Yeah! You could have taken them all on! You'd have put them in their place for sure!" She sneered at the prospect.

"I think you did a good job of that yourself. Did you see their faces when I pried off of that kid? Boy oh boy, were they mad."

A proud smile lit up her face. All chances of crying were gone and she finished the remainder of her meal retaining that smile. It was when they were having an in depth bout of "who would win in a fight..." while loading the dishwasher, that the doorbell rang.

"I got it!" She cried a little too eager to shirk the work onto him, he thought.

Drake straightened up cracking his stiff back and rubbing his aching eyes. He wondered if there was enough coffee in the world to brew a cup big enough to make him feel less like a zombie. As it was now, he'd have to drink at least four cups to gear up for his patrol tonight. There was an earsplitting slam and Gosalyn stormed back into the kitchen scowling. He gawked at her.

"Who...?"

"No one." She snapped cutting him off.

There was a coy sounding knock. She shot him an evil warning glare to which he responded with a suspicious eyebrow raise. He wiped his hands on a nearby towel.

"No one huh?" He said as he made his way to the door.

"Don't do it!" She demanded from behind him.

He opened the door and looked up into the confused face of Launchpad.

"Oh...hi." Drake said at a loss. Launchpad looked as if he had just been slapped in the face and Drake's eyes fell on the three children who stood moodily behind him.

"Er, hi. Hey, I think I might have left the keys to my apartment in the living room..." Launchpad said sheepishly.

"Is that right? I was worried you had come back to for round two." Drake stood aside as the entourage entered.

"You let them in?" Shouted Gosalyn from the kitchen in disbelief.

The look on Louie's face told Drake he would have gladly stayed on the sidewalk. Webby took in the house with a innocent air of curiosity, and then there was the other one. There was a new boy, identical to Louie but more surly looking and wearing a black zipper up sweater over a bright red shirt that matched his baseball cap.

"Drake, Gosalyn, this is Huey, and you already know Webby and Louie." Launchpad introduced the boy uncomfortably.

Drake nodded in greeting to the child who eyed him dourly.

"Get out of my house!" Snarled the red head from the other room.

"Gosalyn..." Drake sent her a warning glance.

Launchpad lowered his eyes sadly and went to look for his missing keys. Drake kept an eye on Gosalyn who's face was burning in outrage.

"How do you know Launchpad?" Asked the red capped boy.

"Oh, we're good friends." Drake answered automatically, his eyes on Gosalyn who looked like she might go after the steak knives in a few moments.

"You know who our Uncle is?" Said the same voice, lined with suspicion.

"Yeah, I don't live under a rock kid." He said a little taken off guard. He turned his attention to the children before him and found they were all staring at him. "What?"

"Your strange Mister." Said the sickly sweet little girl. "When people find out who Uncle Scrooge is they usually get really nice or kinda scared, but you told him to shut up."

"Well... I didn't use those exact words..." He said defensively. They held their hungry eyes on him, it was pretty unnerving.

"You didn't even think about trying to get some money out of him did you?" Asked Louie a fishy look in his hazel eyes.

"We don't want any of your stupid money!" Gosalyn answered the question for him. She had moved into the hall with them and was planted firmly at his side, her arms crossed and a frown on her face.

Drake glanced at her and was about to ask her to be polite when he noticed something. Huey gave his brother a thoughtful look and then turned the gaze to Gosalyn.

"Well that would make you the first."Huey said with a slight smile in her direction.

Drake felt the pit of his stomach fall out and fought the urge to hit the boy.

"We've got more than more here than you and your old fart of an Uncle could buy in a million years you rich little snobs." She spat venomously.

"Oh yeah? So this is your mansion then? Can I see the swimming pool? The stretch limos? How about the helipad? Yeah... you have all we've ever dreamed of..." Louie scowled at her.

"Who needs that garbage?" Gosalyn's eyes flashed at the boy. "I've got a DAD that's more than I can say about you guys!"

"Gosalyn!" Drake breathed in shock.

Webby looked deeply wounded as her big blue eyes danced with tears, Louie looked ready to initiate another fist fight, but Huey, to everyone's surprise laughed.

"Hey I like you, Gosalyn was it?" He smiled.

Drake wished Launchpad would find his keys already before he would have to hurt this ambitious boy. Gosalyn, on the other hand hadn't changed her demeanor in the slightest.

"That's right. My name is Gosalyn Mallard and you had a dumb name like Humpty or something." She glowered at him.

"Close, I'm Huey. So, my brother told me you hit him huh?"

"Whaddya jealous? Cuz I could pound you too." Gosalyn sneered evilly.

Drake didn't like the way this boy was smiling at his daughter, and by the look on Louie's face neither did he.

"Okay that's enough." Drake interceded. Wasn't this boy supposed to be light years away from flirting? If it went on any longer he'd have to 'pound' him in Gosalyn's place. "How's it going in there Launchpad?"

"Uh... not well. Drake could I talk to you for a minute?"

Drake eyed the red capped Casanova wearily.

"Gos, behave yourself all right?"

"I guarantee nothing." She grumbled.

He moved through the awkward silence and entered the living room. Launchpad was on the far side of the room, keys in hand and staring at him.

"Oh you found..."

Launchpad waved him into silence and motioned him to come closer. Drake complied. There was a strange look in the duck's eyes, and he looked rather pale.

"Drake..." Launchpad said in a hushed voice. "I gotta ask you... do you think DW could uh.. Take a break?"

Drake responded with a cold glare.

"It's just..." The cleft beaked bird shifted nervously under his icy eyes. "... they want me to help them. You know, catch 'him'. They hinted at it already it's only a matter of time until they..."

"You should probably leave." Drake said swallowing his rage.

"Drake, you gotta understand... I know these guys! I know they won't stop until they get whatever, or whoever they're after. I don't want to lie to them, and I would only be digging a grave for all of us if I did!"

"So it's better just to dig one for me then is it?" Drake hissed in harsh whisper.

"No..." Launchpad sighed hopelessly.

"You don't trust me, you think I'm going around stealing things, and now the people you ran away from are back with open arms. How better to get back in their good graces then to hand over the evil father of one who saved you're sorry ass not to mention befriended you and trusted you with his biggest secret? Why it is the perfect plan isn't it? I should just go upstairs and pack some things I'll be needing for the state penitentiary!" Drake snarled.

"Damn it Drake, don't you understand how hard this is for me?" Launchpad clenched his fists.

"No, I can honestly say I don't. You know why? Because I'm not you, I'm just me standing over here wondering why you would even THINK that I would rob Scrooge! Why my daughter should feel like there is something wrong with her because you pushed her aside like last week's dirty laundry!" He couldn't contain his anger anymore, even though he still held the whisper the words were as effective as if he had screamed them.

"Does she really feel that way?" Sadness flooded the strong face.

"I think you already know what you're going to do. Who your loyalties lie with. So let me ask you something," Drake spat bitterly. "Would you like me to go ahead and get you knife from the kitchen so you can stab me in the back? You know, just to get it over with?"

"I wouldn't..." Launchpad frowned.

"Then you'll just have to figure out what exactly you are going to do." Drake growled impatiently. "I am not going into hiding for something that rusty bucket of bolts said I did! I have to work this out and if I can't trust you to keep yourself from ratting me out where does that leave me?"

"I haven't done it yet! If I was going to would I have done it already! Why do you have to be so stubborn?" Launchpad growled.

"Because it's who I am. Just like Gosalyn is who she is. We are not them. I'm not Gizmoduck, a shiny boy scout and a goody goody. I am Darkwing Duck and Drake Mallard, I'm stubborn and secretive... all in all an unsatisfactory person." There was a shout from the hallway. "If you'll excuse me I think I have to pry my tomboyish daughter off of the perfect children you love so much." Drake spun on his heel and left Launchpad speechless in his wake.

When he got to them Gosalyn had Huey in a headlock. Drake was too mad to even think of looking at the other children's expressions, he effortlessly yanked her away from him. Her eyes were fixed in narrowed disgust at the three children. Huey rubbed the back of his neck painfully.

"You're good at that..." He said through a weak smile aimed at Gosalyn.

"You're weird." She replied.

"So are you." Huey caught wind of the poisonous glare Drake was beaming at him and the boy shrunk slightly, the smile vanished.

Launchpad entered the room with a forced smile and holding the keys up for the children to see.

"Got 'em. Ready to go kids?" The children filed out the door rather quickly and Launchpad moved his gaze to Gosalyn sadly. "See ya later Gos."

She frowned in response. Launchpad avoided Drake's glare and sadly left. It was a few moments before either of them said anything.

"He's not coming back... is he?" She looked up at Drake, the scowl firmly set on her face.

"I don't know, and he doesn't either." He sighed and put his hand gently on her head. "Come on kiddo, we've to finish cleaning up."

Bud sat at his desk in his study, the small bottle lay on the well polished wood in front of him. The liquid it held was clear, thick, and stuck to the sides of it's glass prison. He stared at it, could he really use it on her? He couldn't help but question Glomgold's motives. He didn't want to hurt her... didn't want her to be a guinea pig for some strange substance. There was a scrape of the lock and he sat bolt up right. She was home earlier than he had anticipated. His eyes quickly traveled across the small bottle and after a second's hesitation he stashed it in his breast pocket. The door closed with an ominous 'clunk' and then there was silence. He waited for the sound of high heels, the sound of her moving through the house, but nothing came. Restless, he removed himself from his study and walked into the main room, and he saw her. She was leaning against the closed door, her big brown eyes wet with tears. He froze as they thickly rolled down her cheeks.

"Well..." She croaked miserably. "You were right. You can say I told you so now."

He stood still, not believing what he was seeing, she broke down into heaving sobs.

"How could I be so stupid!" She wailed. "I should have known better..."

He quickly closed in on her and slid his arms around her. Her leaking brown eyes looked painfully into his.

"Oh Bud, I've been such a horrible horrible wife..." she sobbed. "I understand why you want to leave me."

"But... I don't." He said softly. "I love you Felicity, and I can't help but feel like it was my fault that you went away,"

"Buddy... I'm just a monster... a silly stupid woman who doesn't deserve a wonderful husband like you..."

"Yes you do. You just had to be reminded of what it is we have." He ran his fingers through her curly blonde hair with a sweet smile. "I'm just sorry you had to find out this way."

"Can you forgive me? All those terrible things I said... all the things I did to you... I understand if you can't." Her glossy bottom lip trembled.

"Of course I can, you're all I want in this crazy world. I thought I lost you once, I don't want to go through that again. I promised to honor and cherish you til death do us part, remember?"

The smile he had fallen in love with appeared on her quivering lips. He felt the frost of the once cruel world melt away just looking into her eyes. With a kiss he forgot about the gift Golmgold had given him, and the rooster that had almost taken her. Tonight he wouldn't need alcohol to dull his pain. With something as simple as a kiss he was happy.

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Darkwing Duck and all related Characters are © Disney

Felicity Flood is © Me

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Whew. Sorry it took me so long to upload this, the real world has not been kind to me. But I do hope to get some more to you guys soon. And Congratulations to darkwing5143 who took me up on my little challenge last chapter! You win all the cookies in the world! For those of you who are too lazy to look at what the truth is I think I shall use Darkwing5143's own words...

"Would Duncan be the owner of Glomgold Botanical Research Facility and put Bushroot in charge of making the concoction that Bud Flood is about to give to his wife?"

The answer? Yes, yes, yes! Thank you so much for going that extra mile you really hit the nail on the head ! (if anyone else is curious where this information can be found check out RoR chapter 8 (for the mention that Bushroot worked for a Glomgold owned lab) and 14 for the letter Rhoda recieves at the verrry end.) Ahh, I'm so happy someone took the time to find this out. On that note I shall end this update. Thanks for all the reviews and see you next chapter!


	7. Chapter 7

-Chapter Seven-

Absence of Hope

It was after midnight and the bitter cold stung him all over. He had drunk an entire pot of coffee in preparation of what might await him tonight. The wind kicked up, swirling his cape about him briskly. He sat with his eyes closed on a vacant fire escape. He had given serious thought into whether or not he should just have stayed at home this evening. There would have been no peace there however, he still burned from the accusing tone Launchpad had taken up with him, and knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. Maybe it was the surplus of caffeine in his system or the sleep deprivation but, he felt odd. Not sickly, or great just... odd. He got to his feet and saw a raven had perched on the stoop above him. When he blinked it was still there, at least he wasn't losing his mind. It stared back at him through a golden eye, he wanted to throw something at it.

"Nevermore!" It squawked.

"Cute..." He grumbled as he rolled his eyes. He had heard of people domesticating wild birds, which he always deemed strange, but teaching them such "adorable" catchphrases, some people needed to get out more.

He loaded a grappling hook into his gun and shot it toward the neighboring roof top. The raven didn't flick a feather as he scaled the cool brick wall and heaved himself up into the open roof. The city hung around him sparkling like a flock of fireflies. He'd show them all that he wasn't a menace. He'd clear his name and then he'd show Launchpad who the real hero was. A scream echoed from a nearby alleyway and he responded faster than a bolt of lightening. A mugger had cornered a woman in the dark dead end passage, boastfully brandishing a knife. Darkwing pushed away the odd feeling that tried to consume him and leapt into the alley. The mugger turned to face him, he was an older man, his face wasn't covered and it was clean and shaven. The black clothes he wore were far too nice for your everyday mugger and he wore a proud smile. This wasn't right. Too late he saw the figures hiding out of his immediate line of vision.

"Now!" Shouted the decoy damsel and Darkwing found himself surrounded by gun barrels. He cursed to himself as the eager citizens closed in on him.

"Don't try anything Darkwing Duck or we'll gun you down." Came a shaky voice to his left.

"So this is the thanks I get, is it?" He said coldly.

"We've got nothing against you but that reward Mc Duck has on you would really help us out..." Said a gruff voice behind him.

"The police are coming!" Cried someone faraway and excited.

"That was easy!" Smiled the "damsel".

"Mind if I give you some advice." Darkwing addressed them civilly. The faces he could see looked petrified at being addressed. "Don't shoot." He pulled a pin on a smoke bomb and in seconds the scene around him was stripped away by the flowing curtain. Coughs and screams sounded all around him and he quickly grappled to a low rooftop.

"Where is he?" Shouted a strained voice as he made his silent retreat.

"No one shoot! We'll probably just hit each other!"

He stared down at the thinning haze, at least they had agreed with him on that. The strange nagging, eerie feeling tried to overwhelm him but he bolted away from the over confident city dwellers. He was rather shaken by the amateurish attempt to catch him, how could he set things right when people's eyes were obscured by dollar signs! A gunshot tore through the night air and a bullet collided with the roof behind him. Startled he stopped and drew his gun as he traced the bullet to it's origin. He felt his jaw drop as he saw a little old woman reloading her rifle while hanging out her window.

"This is insane!" He fled up an adjacent fire escape and ascended onto the next roof.

It was no use. It seemed like the entire city was tipped off to his location. He carried on his retreat at break neck speeds but it seemed like the city itself was trying to pull him down. He dodged all attempts to stop him by using every trick or technique he had accumulated over the years. It was madness, police cars, S.H.U.S.H. agents, fire fighters, citizens of all shapes and sizes, there was no end in sight to their onslaught. Numbly he realized that their plan was to either take him down... or herd him somewhere. He tried in vain to break away from them but he was quickly scooped back on course. Soon he found himself being steered toward an abandoned lot on the banks of the bay. The lights of the suburbs winked peacefully across the freezing waters as he stumbled exhausted right into their trap, the trap **_he_** had cooked up for him. Gizmoduck stood in the center of the lot, a smug grin on his face, if Dark wasn't having so much trouble breathing he would have wiped that smile off his face. All he could do was wheeze painfully as a triumphant laugh rang through the bitter cold.

"You played right into our plan you blanketed buffoon!" Sneered Gizmoduck as a cheer erupted from the surrounding masses.

Dark glanced around. He was blocked in quite securely, police and agents along with the eager citizens were guarding any possible exit he could use. The only option open to him was a deep fall into the icy waters of the bay... and that was only if he could over shoot the rocks... even if he did he wouldn't get away unscathed. As his imminent capture settled in, hopelessly his thoughts went out to Gosalyn. There was no way he could get out of this, what would happen to her? He felt like throwing up and the odd feeling started overpowering him.

"Surrender Darkwing! Even you can't louse your way out of this one!" Said the proud hero.

He saw it flutter through the air through his blurring vision, the black bird perched on a street lamp, it's golden eye locked on him and the illness rose through his every pore. Darkness veiled his eyes and the world and fell away around him. He was swallowed in pitch black. It was warm and calming, almost like it was rocking him into slumber. This was bliss. His mind slipped away from the world that existed beyond this place. It was like being held in Morgana's arms... peaceful and wonderful. He lost all track of time and what had led him here. Floating in this abyss was all he cared about... nothing else seemed important. A soft sound started after a while, it was barely audible at first but slowly it rose in volume. It was a person's voice, the darkness seemed to be pulling him away from the disturbance... but he was curious about who else had experienced this place. He strained to listen to the voice.

"Drake?" Said the tiny voice.

Drake? He thought, What a silly thing to say... His mind slunk back into place. Drake? That was him! He tried to answer but found himself unable to speak, unable to do anything. This darkness wasn't cradling him it was binding him!

"Drake where are you?" Came the voice again slightly louder. "Where are you?"

Again he tried to cry out but he was being silenced by the thick darkness that wrapped around him. The voice was so close now and he could clearly recognize it, it was her.

"Drake! Where are you!" Screamed Morgana panic stricken.

He wished he could respond to her. Where was she? Where was he for that matter? This darkness was smothering him. He had to signal her, let her know he was here before she passed by. A glow blinded him, he squinted around to find the source, only to find he was it.

"Drake!" Her panic was replaced with joy. "I can see you darling, I'm coming!"

A brilliant white hand scooped the darkness in front of him aside like a thick curtain and she was before him.

"Oh thank god..." She breathed with tears in her eyes. The blackness was around her waist like a she was in a murky lake. She trudged through the soupy messy with difficulty but her eyes never left him. "I've been trying to find you for hours... Drake I have to be quick before she realizes I've found you. I need you to remember what I'm about to tell you okay?"

She had waded through the thick mass, she was close but below him, he was being suspended in mid air by this horrible substance. He wanted to talk to her, ask her what this was, what was happening, what she meant by "hours", but he couldn't so much as open his mouth. Her hand gently landed on his chest, it stood out like a brilliant light in this prison.

"First, you've been shot." He felt her hand slide to his right side and her thumb pressed in gently right below his rib cage. "Right there..." Her bright green eyes looked lovingly up at him. "Second, hold on to her. You must not drop her. Third, I don't care how just kill that raven." Her hands traveled up his torso and rested on his cheeks, he wanted to kiss her... wanted to break out of this... ask her what all of this meant. "Fourth, run. Run away as fast as you can. You have got to get out of there quickly..." A tear escaped her eye as her voice took a firm tone. "And you must remember that this isn't your fault. You hear me? You didn't do this. I'm almost to you dearest. I am traveling nonstop I'll be with you tomorrow afternoon. Please... I know you can do this..." She blinked away the tears. "I'm releasing you now..."

A jolt shot through him and a blinding flash scoured his already open eyes. It all flooded over him, the screaming pain in his right side, the dampness of the fabric around the origin of the pain, the harsh cold wind that slapped him in the face, the piercing shrieking that came from around his left hand, the heaviness of this left arm, and the cold steel he clung to with his right hand. His vision jumped back and he found himself high above a rocky bank of the bay... on the suburb side. He was leaning over the deadly fall, the arches of his feet holding him in place on a shaky metal pole that rose from the railing, his hand adding the necessary support. His eyes shot frantically around, a police squad was on the dock he clung to, all of them petrified and their guns held on him. Gizmoduck was slowly approaching him, his hands held out coaxingly before him. The screaming continued and hesitantly he looked down. A pair of wide, terrified blue eyes seeping with tears looked back. He was dangling Webby over those lethal rocks.

"Easy now Darkwing..." Pleaded Gizmoduck. "We can talk this out...Just give me the girl..."

The evil odd feeling swept over him. No! He wouldn't give into it again! He searched for it and found the foul creature settled on the railing to his far left. It's gold eye fixed on him and it cocked it head to the side. His arm was shaking with the strain of holding the girl. He remembered what Morgana had told him, now he just had to work this out. Gizmoduck was still approaching.

"Hold it right there Giz." He grunted.

The armored duck froze, his hands still held out in desperation. It was almost heartbreaking seeing how truly concerned he was for Webby, but then he remembered that it was this goon's fault he was here. For all he knew this idiot was the one that shot him! His sudden spurt of anger faded as he saw that Gizmo's hands were shaking.

"Darkwing... if you harm her I swear I will hunt you down and..."

"I want you to kill that raven." Dark hissed.

"What?"

"You want me to deposit her on the rocks?" He snarled.

"The raven?" Gizmoduck said weakly.

"Quick before it catches on!" Dark whispered. "Do it now!"

Gizmoduck's right index finger flipped back at the top knuckle and a small laser cannon shot out. A bright blue beam flew at the bird who tried to escape too late. On impact the feeling that threatened to consume him again was eradicated. He was in complete control of himself and felt all the anguish he had sustained.

"There..." Said Gizmoduck helplessly. "I've done what you wanted.. Now please don't hurt her."

With an unbearable amount of pain and effort the managed to pull Webby up and she latched her arms around his waist. Her big cobalt eyes looked up at him in confusion, he regarded her sadly.

"This..." She whispered. Her voice hoarse from screaming. "This is the real you isn't it?"

"I am truly sorry Ms. Vanderquack... I can't seem to stay myself lately. I hope you can forgive me.."

"What are you telling her you fiend!" Shrieked Gizmoduck in outrage.

"Get ready to grab that railing Webbigale, all right?" He whispered to her, her eyes searched his face.

"Wait, tell me what happened to you. Maybe I can tell them..." She said hurriedly.

"I'm going to toss you to the railing now..." He interrupted her, his grip on the pole was failing.

"Webby don't listen to him!" Roared the distraught Gizmoduck. Darkwing returned his gaze to the frantic robotic suited duck.

"Here you go!" He shouted as he flung Webby toward the dock.

She grabbed the bars and Gizmo raced to her aid. Darkwing took a deep breath and kicked off the railing as hard as he could. He saw the stunned faces appear above him as he plummeted downward. He watched as Webby's concerned face was pulled safely away from the railing. He looked down... the bay was rushing toward him, it looked as if he had successfully over shot the rocks. With a loud, harsh slapping sound he was swallowed by the hypothermic water.

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

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Sorry about the major gap in updates... I'm not having a good year at all... not by a long shot. But I can safely say I haven't had as bad a day as poor DW. I hope to post more frequently in the chapters to come. As always thank you all for your time and input..


	8. Chapter 8

I'd like to dedicate this chapter to acosta perez jose ramiro who totally called me out on the surprise. :D Good job !

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Chapter Eight

Puppeteer and the Pawns

The house was dark and empty when Gosalyn woke up and couldn't find him. She raced to the living room and turned on the news holding her breath. Helicopters were shining their searchlights on the bay, the bright circular beams making the dark water glitter grimly. Her ears didn't want to register what the newscaster was saying, but she couldn't help it. They were searching the bay to recover the body of Darkwing Duck. Body? She chilled over in terrified panic. She sprung to her feet and frantically ran down into the basement, falling down the last few steps. She had to get to the tower, she wouldn't' believe it until she saw he wasn't there. She stood in a dusty looking part of the cellar and pressed a button on a statue of a mouse. Drake had told her who he was hundreds of times, but she could never remember. Now she wished she could remember everything he had ever said to her, he couldn't be dead. He had to be there, she couldn't loose him too. When she arrived at the hideout it was dark and the shadows warped the familiar scene into a nightmare.

"Dad?" She called out in fear.

The devices he used nightly carried on as usual, their little lights blinking blissfully unaware of the world around them. It was by this faint light that she could make out a slick watery trail along the tiles of the floor. She sprinted the course of the path and with a painful leap of her heart she found him.

"Dad!" Her voice cracked in joy and she ran to him.

In the darkness he sat on the wet floor, his arms wrapped around his knees, and his face hidden in his hands. She slowed her pace as her bare feet slapped on the icy puddle that surrounded him. There was a box sitting before him but it hardly seemed important, there were files and debris of what looked like a frantic search all around. She paused beside him unable to do anything but watch him. He just sat there... he didn't even look up at her.

"Dad?" She croaked, her throat tight with the threat of tears.

"I did do it Gos..." He replied with a trembling breath. "Everything..."

"Did what? Dad I don't..." She knelt beside him and saw that he was shaking uncontrollably. "Dad?"

"I did take Dewey's things, I shot at Gizmoduck, and now... I tried to kill Webby." His voice was quaking.

She looked at the box that was slowly soaking in the patch of water. It's contents were a collection of childish odds and ends, among them was a battered blue baseball cap. She tried to wrap her mind around what he was confessing to her... but it was all too cruel. This wasn't right. Her gaze returned to him and found he hadn't moved an inch. She put her hand comfortingly on his arm only to quickly retract it. He was ice cold, so cold it hurt to touch him.

"Dad you gotta get out of those wet clothes..." She pleaded with the shivering man. "You'll die if you don't..."

Wearily he lifted his head, his pale blue eyes were instantly upon her. She watched a single tear slowly roll down his cheek and felt her heart break.

"Dad..." She wiped the tear off his frigid face.

"Oh Gosalyn, how did you get stuck with a nutcase like me?"

"Just lucky I guess." She unlatched the freezing cold cape he was draped in and dragged it away. When she returned he was sadly staring at the incriminating box. She yanked the knot of his mask loose and peeled the frosty fabric from his feathers. He was devastated, and she had no idea how to help him. Her arms wrapped around his torso from behind and she rested her chin lightly on his shoulder. He was shaking badly, she wasn't sure if it was from the cold waters of the bay, or what he had just realized... but it was probably both. An icy hand rested gently on her elbow. "Everything will be okay Dad... you'll see."

"Why does nothing ever turn out right?" He sighed hopelessly. "I always manage to royally screw up everything I touch..." He put his free hand over his eyes wearily.

"That's not true. You've done a lot of good things!" She interceded truthfully, but her words were unheard.

"I don't even remember doing any of this... I should. Shouldn't I? I don't remember breaking into Scrooge's mansion... or snapping the door off Gizmoduck's suit... or how I even got Webby at all." He moaned miserably. "Launchpad is sure to tell them everything now..."

"You didn't do that Dad... I know you. That couldn't have been you..."

"Morgana seems to think so too... but I can't help but feel like I'm losing my mind. Do I have split personalities or something?" He pawed at his hair feathers in defeat. "Gos... I've gotta tell you something..." He drew a shaky breath. "I was in an insane asylum... back before I can remember properly... but I know I was there. What... what if it's resurfacing?" He asked her in a strained whisper.

"But... do you know why you were in there?" She shuddered as the cold water he was coated in soaked her nightshirt.

"No. That's just it... I can't find anything. It's like... I don't really exist." His voice cracked. He was on the verge of a complete meltdown, she knew it. She tightened her hug on him, like she might be able to keep him in one piece if she held on long enough. "There are thousands of Drake Mallards out there... but none of them are me. I can't find anything... why? Who am I?"

'You're an awesome dad, a good friend, a great boyfriend, you have a big heart, a short temper, a big black hat, you know what's right and what's wrong, you can pick up any clues no matter how small, you hate the Muddlefoots... I could tell you anything you want to know Drake..." Her tears mixed with the bay water he was saturated in. He leaned his head to rest on hers lovingly. "You're also stubborn as all hell... please Dad... change out of these wet clothes..."

"Gosalyn... if... **when** they come to take me away, I want you to go with them. Don't fight them. I only want what's best for you..." It sounded to her like he was dictating his last will and testament.

"Sorry Dad but I won't leave you quietly. If they come I'll break some bones before they separate us. Now don't make me break some of yours! Get out of these clothes!" She shook him impatiently.

With a sort of beaten obedience he wobbly stood, and she saw the blood mixed in with the pool that had formed around where he had sat.

"Dad! You're bleeding!"

Drake gingerly removed the sopping wet jacket and black shirt. The gunshot wound was directly below his rib cage on the right, it looked angry and was bleeding furiously. He winced and gasped when he touched it.

"Who shot you?" She asked breathlessly as she fetched him a clean cloth to stop the bleeding.

"Don't remember." He grit his teeth as he jammed his finger in the wound and fished out the bullet.

He held it up for inspection in the soft light as she pressed the cloth hard against the injury. His eyes were confused and hurt, his own blood dripping down his hand. He looked deathly pale, like he would be knocked off his feet if a light breeze were to come through the tower. She took his hand and placed it where hers had kept the pressure on the wound. Convinced he would do it properly she rushed off to grab a set of dry, warm clothes. He had a few outfits stashed away up here for emergencies, and she decided this was a perfect time to use them. While she dug through them to obtain the warmest combination, she threw on a dry shirt for herself to sleep in. When she returned to him, he was sitting on the edge of a table with his eyes closed, the cloth still diligently held in place.

"Come here." He extended his free arm to her.

She held the clothes close to her chest and approached his outstretched arm. When she was within his reach he closed his arm around her and drew her into a hug, placing a kiss softly on her cheek.

"You promised me you'd be more careful.." She said quietly.

"I know... I'm trying." He sighed.

"When did you talk to Morgana?"

"What?"

"Before, you said that Morgana thought the same thing I did."

"Oh... well, she kinda came to me in my sleep. I'm not even sure it was real... but if it is she might show up tomorrow."

"Really?" She shouted happily. He nodded. "Keen gear, maybe she could zap those Mc Duck twerps into pudding or something! That'll shut them up!"

"Maybe.." He smiled lightly.

"You'll feel better once she's here Dad. I know you will..."

A helicopter zoomed by overhead, it's searchlight illuminating the room for an instant. She saw the dark circles under his eyes and how ill he really looked.

"We've gotta get you to bed... you look terrible."

"Gos... if I start acting weird..." His eyes locked meaningfully on hers. "I want you to stop me. Knock me out with sleeping gas or just hit me with something... just make sure I don't leave... okay?"

"Okay Dad..."

It had taken a few hours but Fenton's hands had finally stopped shaking. Webby wasn't hurt, she was still a little rattled but who wouldn't be? The two of them were left alone for the moment in a room at the suburban police department. Scrooge was on his way and he was sure Launchpad and the boys were coming as well. He had messed up big time. It was unthinkable how the fiend had eluded him again! What good was he doing at this point? Gizmoduck was nothing more than an over dressed oaf when it came to facing off with the sly little demon. Maybe he would do everyone a world of good if he just let S.H.U.S..H. handle it. He pulled himself out of his self loathing to see her eyes fixed on him.

"Webby, I'm so sorry. I couldn't protect you... I had no idea he knew where you were..."

"Fenton I don't think he knew what he was doing." Her stare was piercing.

"Don't be silly, he announced what he was going to do before he did it! How could he..."

"Something was wrong with him! I saw it!"

"I know, he's insane! Webby I'm sorry you had to..." The look on her face silenced him. She was angry with him?

"No, I mean when he kidnaped me he was vicious, stiff and his eyes were so empty. It was like he was an evil doll... he didn't do anything normally... he was so strange. When he hung me over the rocks, he was going to do it... I knew no matter what you did. No matter if he got to talk to Uncle Scrooge or not... he was going to drop me..." She closed her eyes with a shudder and wrapped her arms around herself, his heart broke a little more. Her eyes opened and were upon him with puzzlement. "But just when I thought I was going to die... he changed. I felt it... he had just said he was going to drop me... he had laughed so terribly... his grip loosened like he wanted me to know before he actually let go that he was serious. I could see the smile on his face.. I couldn't help it.. I closed my eyes. His fingers were letting me slide right through them then... it changed. His grip tightened stronger than I had ever felt, and his arm started to shake with the effort of holding onto me. I opened my eyes, and he looked so lost, and when he saw me... he was different... like he was a person again..."

"Webby..."

"Fenton I know what I saw! I don't think he had any control over what happened! He apologized to me... told me that he had trouble staying himself lately..."

"You don't really believe..."

"Why would he ask you to kill that bird? He was about to drop me... why would he do that?" She asked impatient and exhausted.

"He's not right in the head Webbigale!" Fenton ran his fingers through his matted hair angrily.

"I think someone was using him. Someone who knows about Dewey, about all of us. Why would he even think to come after me? I'm not really Uncle Scrooge's niece... why wouldn't he go after one of the boys? No one would know we had found Launchpad... or that we were staying with him unless they knew us!"

"I think you're still in shock..."

"No. I think you are! Fenton think about it! Uncle Scrooge has made so many enemies... maybe one of them is behind this!"

"Or maybe Darkwing Duck is just after the same thing all of them are! His money!"

"Why don't you just listen to me...?" Her big blue eyes looked at him hopelessly.

He sighed loudly. An old enemy of Scrooge huh? An "evil doll"? How did she expect him to take any of this seriously? He didn't know why Darkwing wanted him to kill that bird that... raven? An evil doll... it couldn't be.

"Webby... you don't suppose..." He started but was interrupted when a wooden cane crashed painfully down on his head. He leaned away narrowly missing another swipe.

"Yoo imbecile! Yoo...yoo blundering buffoon!" Scrooge shouted as he swung madly at Fenton. "How could ya let this happen?"

"Uncle Scrooge!" Gasped Webby as she tried to restrain him.

"Ah.. Webby darlin' are ya all right?" He hugged her tightly. "That ruffian dinnet hurt ya did he?" The elderly face was alight with worry.

"Uncle Scrooge I don't..."

"Webby!" Cried two voices in unison and she found herself crushed by more arms.

Huey and Louie squeezed her so hard the breath was forced out of her. Over their heads she saw Launchpad standing in the doorway , why did he look so sick?

"An' yoo!" roared Scrooge at Launchpad who flinched.

"Mr. Mc Duck!" Fenton grabbed the cane keeping it away from the disturbed mallard's head as he rubbed the welt on his own. "Don't blame this on Launchpad! Darkwing Duck got the better of all of us..."

"Who cares? He's dead now." Said Louie with grim satisfaction.

"Dead?" Webby repeated weakly.

"Of course he is." Huey eyed her. "He got shot and threw himself into the freezing bay, probably hit the rocks at the bottom too. You think he could have survived that?"

"S...shot? I didn't see him get shot..." Fenton stammered. "Who shot him?"

"I did." Confessed the paling Launchpad. "I shot him."

In a rundown motel room thick with incense a middle aged, raven haired, woman grieved the loss of her favorite familiar in her own special way. She found throwing things and shouting loudly helped.

"Dat... dat rolling aluminum can! How dare he do dis to me!" She fumed through her thick accent. "My poor lettle Poe.. He was such a good minion... and now... he's dead!" She knocked a lamp off the sad looking dresser without even touching it. "You mark my words Gizmoduck you will not get off so easy or my name isn't Magica De Spell!" She threw the glass the motel had provided against the wall and it shattered in a satisfactory way.

She had been so close to having Scrooge right where she wanted him when her grip was broken! It was hard enough getting Darkwing to succumb to her spell but he had never broken out of it before. Someone was meddling with her magic and that made her blood boil. She was a famous and fearsome witch. The globe cowered at the very mention of her name. All other magic looked liked smoke and mirrors compared to what she could do! But somewhere there was a little maggot prying into her spells and sabotaging them. She had come too far to let her plan fall apart. Darkwing had turned out to be the perfect little slave and scapegoat. After she had worn down his defenses he fell completely and utterly under her command. A more willing slave she had never known. She had used Poe as an amplifier of her power to more easily manipulate him but now... Well now, she'd have to take matters into her own capable hands. She sneered to herself, no one was going to stop her... there wasn't a person alive who could oppose her. She came out of her daze when the phone rang. Stunned, she stared at it. She worked alone, always, no one knew where she was... and now it was three forty-seven in the morning, the phone rang again. It was probably a wrong number... but she couldn't shake an uneasiness that didn't become her. She picked up the receiver. The other side of the phone was not a silent hang up as she had believed it would be, instead a gentle wave of classical music wafted through the receiver.

"Ahh Ms. De Spell, it is good to see you're awake." Said a male voice, dark and grisly.

"Why yes I am darlink, and who would dare to interrupt me?" She spoke plainly. This person would not play mind games with her, she was the master of those.

"Just an admirer." Said the deep voice airily. "I've taken quite an interest in your work lately. You are a splendid conjurer."

"You flatter me darlink, as you should. Ees dere a purpose behind this call?"

"Yes of course, I am a busy man. Even though you are a talented woman I do have other things to attend to but, I feel I should speak with you before you get too out of control. So why don't you come outside and talk to me?"

"Ha!" She burst out haughtily. "Why you pretentious infant! You honestly think you have bested me?"

"No, no my dear lady. I simply wish to speak with you face to face, lay down a few guidelines for you to operate by while you're in my city."

"Oh? Suppose I just set you on fire instead?" She smirked. A cruel laugh erupted on the other side of the phone, she was shocked when she felt a shiver run through her. Who was this man?

"You could do that... but then again we can be civil about this. I do intend to provide you with a bit of payment for your compliance."

"What use to I have for your pathetic money?" She scoffed.

"Who said anything about money? What I had in mind was more along the lines of a name. A name of the one who eludes you and so easily shatters your fabulous little illusions. I know who she is, I even have a photograph of her. Together I think we can make her a little more docile... all I ask is for you to grace me with your presence." Said the silky dark voice with an audible smile.

"Eef you are lying I will make you wish you had never been born." She snarled.

"My dear lady, as I have already stated, I am a busy man... I'm far too busy to be cooking up lies for you. You will find my car is right outside. Please take your time."

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

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Sorry I haven't updated in forever! I'm happy to report that things are not nearly as bad as they were in my last update... here's hopin' they stay that way. As always I can't thank you guys enough for the reviews and support... hopefully I haven't lost anyone during the month long delay. Well hope you enjoyed it and I'll try to get the next chapter up in a timely manner. -


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

A Brush with the Dark

He always started his day the same way. After kissing his wife sweetly on the cheek he made sure he got up on the right side of the bed, literally. He usually double checked... ya get the "L" shape with the left hand. Yup. Got up on the right. Now he knew he wasn't the smartest man and that didn't bother him. In fact, he was perfectly blissful in his narrow mind scape. After he made certain again that he had indeed dismounted on the right he would wake the boys. He had been blessed with two boys who were amazing both in their strengths and weaknesses. Two children with personalities so distant it was strange to think they were related. He always woke the older boy first. He stopped outside the wooden door that had the big black words "GET LOST" spray painted proudly upon it. He and the Mrs. were never big art folks but they appreciated a well shaped G as much as the next man. He knocked loudly and opened the door. There was an odd smell that resembled unwashed socks that resided in the dark room.

"Tank it's time to get up son!" He merrily shouted.

A lump under the jolly roger blanket (or was it the poison sign?) growled in response. It was enough for him. He left the door open a crack and moved onto his younger son's door. He didn't have anything posted on it, or painted. Actually it might have been the cleanest door he had ever encountered. There weren't scuff marks or fingerprints... maybe he just wasn't looking close enough. He rapped his knuckles on the spotless wood and swung open the door. A different smell dwelt here, it was a faint scent of chemicals he couldn't even pronounce let alone spell. He knew where they came from, they'd gotten the boy a catchers helmet and bat one Christmas a few years back, which he had exchanged for a full chemistry set. It now rested perfectly organized on his desk, the different colored vials labeled and arranged by what he could only assume was smelly order.

"Honker rise an' shine or ya won't get ta school on time!" He smiled at his genius, he had no greater pleasure than making things rhyme. His child obediently started to rouse. "Ya better wake Gosalyn too or she'll be cross with ya!"

"Yes dad." Yawned the nasally voice.

He watched as Honker grabbed the tin can on a string that ran to the neighboring house's window, and meekly spoke into it. With a smile he walked down the stairs, he liked the Mallards. They were nice folks. Gosalyn was a real cutie and a god send for Honker. The boy had always been extremely soft spoken and shy. A few months back he barely came out of his room apart from school and meals. He wasn't a very social scamp so he didn't have many friends, which was a fact that Tank often stressed in (what he thought in his fatherly wisdom) was brotherly banter. But the truth of it was that he and Binky had really started to worry about him. Burying his beak in books had made him smart, smarter than any of the rest of them, but it had made him a real outcast. Not that he was unlikable, far from it, he was just too reserved. Kids were meant to play loudly and get in trouble for doing stupid things, that was part of growing up. Honker had taken up researching Quantum Physics, and Abnormal Psychology, things he still had no idea what they were.

The house the Mallards now lived in used to belong to an older Labrador woman, she'd been trying to sell it for years. It was out of the blue when she just packed up and left without a sound in the middle of the night. It was a shame really too, he thought, it was the day before he always had his family cookout, she was always invited to that. The vacant house was for sale and the realtors were real funny people. Duckin' behind bushes and things whenever he walked by, trying to keep him on his toes no doubt. It was the beginning of this past summer when a few families looked into the place. Being the good neighbors they were they went to greet each of them, even went on the house tour with them. Where they could fill in the perspective owners on little tid bits of the house's history. Like when the termites ate through that support beam, that the woman's husband keeled over in his cereal at the kitchen table, and the big hole in the basement that racoons loved to hide out in. Oddly enough not only did those families never come back, but the realty people asked them rather rudely to "stay on their own damn property". It was six months ago that Drake and Gosalyn Mallard had come to look at the house and only a few days later began to move in. It felt like they had lived there forever, it was like they were part of the family. Honker and the spirited young girl hit it off immediately becoming best friends faster than anything he'd ever seen before. Suddenly, Honker was out and about, playing outside and getting into trouble at school. To see such a drastic change in his routine, being his concerned parents, Binky and he couldn't have been happier. Not only was the kid a slice of god's grace but her old man wasn't anything to ignore either. Drake was a young single father with, from what he could tell, a day job and another job late at night. At first Drake had rather awkwardly asked if they would mind keeping an eye on Gos when he was unable, but they were all so pleased to have her that the young man finally started to settle in. Drake was a very serious guy, kind of a cool headed, collected kid. He liked to think of their relationship like that of the Flipper and Pelican from Pelican's Island, which was incidently his favorite show.

He waddled through the house and opened the front door. It was a cool November morning with the sun bright and a few clouds floating lazily by. He started down the pathway to fetch his newspaper when he saw something odd. Now it has already been stated that Herb Muddlefoot wasn't a very smart man but he wasn't a complete waste of a brains. He stood in his fruit emblazoned robe gazing at the expensive purple car that sat in front of the Mallard's residence. It's engine was still on, he could tell because the tailpipe was smoking but it seemed to be just sitting there. It was when the well dressed dog driver got stiffly out of the car that Herb realized he was staring. So with a smile and an enthusiastic wave he called out to the elegant looking chauffeur.

"Well good mornin' stranger!"

The dog's small black eyes scanned him briefly and he sniffed loudly in response. A bit hurt by the unfriendliness of the Mallard's wealthy company Herb picked up his paper and headed back to his house. He glanced back at the car before he shut the door and saw the dog let a small, fluffy, pink coated individual out of the back seat. The little girl ran quickly to Drake's door as he shut his own. He could smell the bacon being prepared by the woman who was humming happily in the kitchen. The boys were making their way down the stairs, Tank "playfully" punching his brother with each step. Tank was still in his pajamas while Honk was dressed and ready for school.

"Now boys enough with the horse play now." He chuckled as he sat at the table. Binky sat a steaming cup of coffee before him. "Thank you Binkums." He cooed which made her giggle.

"Oh Honker dear did you wake Gosalyn?" Binky asked as she ran her fingers through the boy's hair.

"I tried but I don't think she's in her room." He said as he poured himself a glass of milk.

"What's the matter Honk miss your girlfriend?" Sneered Tank as he grabbed the glass away from Honker before he could take a sip.

"S...she's not my g...girlfriend." Honker stammered as he blushed slightly.

"Don't cha' worry about it Honkster! They've got guests ta wake 'um." Herb said reassuringly.

"Guests?" Honker repeated suspiciously.

"Oh my! Company? At this hour? That is unusual!" Binky chirped merrily as she placed a plate of pancakes in front of each of them.

"Yup! Rich folks too, by the look of that there car. An' the little girl who got out didn't look to shabby either." He laughed as he opened his news paper to the funnies.

"Oh dear that is exciting!" Piped his attractive wife as she joined them at the table. "Honker honey, whatever is the matter dear?"

Herb lowered the paper and saw the boy staring back at him white as a sheet.

"What's tha matter son?" He asked carefully.

"I... I just... I just remembered that Gosalyn still has my text book and I've got a test first thing today." He got up quickly. "I'm going to go get it."

Honker blocked out his family's confused expressions as he ran to the front door. He had seen the front page of the Canardian times. The bold lettering had impaled him with icy efficiency. **DARKWING DUCK DEAD? POLICE STILL SEARCHING BAY FOR BODY.** He had to talk to Gosalyn, tell her if she didn't all ready know. His heart sank, how could he tell her something like this? He got outside and saw the vehicle his father had mentioned, but mostly he saw her. She was halfway back to the car when she stopped and stared at him with those huge blue eyes. He felt like he was going to faint.

"Oh! Mr. Honker Muddlefoot!" She cried happily as he awkwardly walked over to her. "My what a surprise to see you!" She smiled.

"Webbigail, what are you doing here?" He asked softly taken back by how pleased she sounded. Her smile faded and she looked sadly at Gosalyn's house.

"I'm sure you heard about what happened to Darkwing Duck..." She sighed. ".. I guess I wanted to tell her that she was right about him."

"What do you mean? Were you there?" He watched her nod slowly her eyes still on the house. He secretly knew that Gosalyn wasn't in there. She must know what people were saying and he was sure she would have gone to the tower. He had hoped to get in the house and follow her there, make sure everything was all right but he'd have to make sure Webby was long gone before he tried anything. "Well, Gosalyn has left for school by now," he lied, "I could tell her if you wanted."

Those eyes were upon him again.

"No, no thank you Mr. Muddlefoot. I was hoping I could maybe talk to her a bit on my own. Is it true that he had saved her before?" She shook her head dismissing the question before he could answer. "Perhaps I'll just come back later."

"Ah.. Well, she's got hockey practice after school so I'm not sure when she could talk..." He saw despair flicker in her eyes. "But I... I could always ask her to give you a call when she gets in. Do you want me to give her your number?"

"Oh would you? That would be marvelous! Here I'll give you my hotel number and room. I figured I should write it down after yesterday." She smiled sweetly as she pulled a small paper out of her pocket and handed it daintily to him. After he had tucked it safely in his pant pocket she threw her arms around him and kissed him quickly on the cheek.

"Oh thank you Mr. Muddlefoot! I truly do appreciate it!" She released him and he felt his face burning.

"J..just call me Honker."

"Okay and you can call me Webby." She beamed. "I have a wonderful idea! Why don't we drop you off at your school?"

"I don't think that will be..." He flustered but she grasped his hand and led him toward the car.

"Don't be silly Honker! Duckworth would be more than happy to drive you right?"

The snooty looking dog opened the door of the fancy ride.

"Pleased as punch Miss." He said flatly.

"But I..." He stammered helplessly as the heat of the car washed over him like a summer's breeze.

"Now, now young man, I'm afraid once my Webbigail puts her mind to something she can get quite stubborn. It would be our pleasure to drop you off dear." Said the kindly looking older lady who sat neatly in the car. Her gray hair twisted into a knot on her head and her bright eyes behind a small pair of glasses.

"That's my Grandma! She's so swell! Won't you please come with us?" Her big blue eyes stared deeply into him. He wanted to check on Gosalyn, he wanted to make sure she was okay, he wanted to get away from these people and make sure Mr. Mallard wasn't dead, but there was no way out of this. Even if he did get Webby to leave he'd never make it to the tower in time to come back and not miss the bus. Not to mention all the suspicion it would raise.

"...Let me get my book bag."

Across the bay in the throng of the early hour city life a pair of eyes saw this chilly November morning as the most beautiful day in months. Bud stood at his window smiling at the buildings around him as he put on his tie. He had woken up with her in his arms, and he had laid there longer than he should have, trying his hardest not to wake her. She was so beautiful in her peaceful slumber, last night she had been so passionate, he couldn't help but feel like he had won. She made him feel like he had saved the world, like he was a hero of ancient times with her as his faithful fawning queen. He slicked his hair back and turned to take in the room behind him. She was still asleep, her curly blonde hair resting around her like a golden crown. Her soft tan fur basking in the newly risen sun's light. He wanted to crawl back in bed with her, pull the covers over his head and just take in this feeling. However he had neglected his work so long, he would show her how he felt by pulling the company they forged together out of the gutter. He grabbed the dirty batch of clothes that lay clumped on the floor where they had been thoughtlessly shed the night before and felt a solid small something. He fished it out and Glomgold's gift lay in his palm. He hadn't needed it after all, he gazed lovingly at his wife. He would try to contact Mr. Glomgold at the office later and see if he could return it to him with a heart felt thanks. He slid the vial in his breast pocket. The city really did look beautiful today.

"Buddy? Where are you going?" Said a tired voice he knew all too well.

He turned to her with a bashful smile. Her golden brown eyes were barely open as she stretched. He leaned over her and kissed her gently.

"I've got some things to take care of at the plant. You should make reservations for lunch somewhere and let me know where to meet you."

"You really have to go?" She pouted playfully.

He nodded with a smile.

"Yeah, as tempting as it is to stay here with you my dear, I'm afraid I've been a horrendous businessman in your absence."

"Well, all right. I'll see you for lunch then." She yawned. "And we can meet anywhere I want?"

"Anywhere." He ran his fingers through her shimmering hair.

"Okay. I know just the place." She grinned.

"Oh? Picked it out so soon? Must be good huh?"

"Bud dear..." She batted her eyelashes. "It's to _die_ for."

Fenton was completely at his wits end. He was siting in an uncomfortable metal folding chair, his head resting on a wooden conference table. He had been allowed no sleep at all. After the night long search of the bay didn't turn up so much as a feather it seemed all the questioning was aimed directly at him. What a mess this was turning out to be. He was near zombification at his point. He was up all night with the police's questions and then the navy suited agents had "requested" an audience with him. So they carted him off to this empty room without so much as a cup of coffee. His head was pounding and his cell phone battery was dead. He fingered the buttons absently. He had tried to call her a few times in the down time between questionings. He knew it was selfish, it was early and she was more than likely sleeping, or maybe even at work by now. He just felt if he heard her sweet voice he'd feel a little better... get a bit of a reminder that there was still sanity in this crazy world. That there was someone who cared about him. Gandra was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he wasn't even sure why he still had her. She didn't faint and squeal at the sight of Gizmoduck, to her... Gizmoduck was nothing but Fenton Crackshell with aluminum siding. She liked _him_, not his super hero persona. She always knew what to say to lift his spirit, but she hadn't answered her phone. He had left a few voice mails, but now he was cut off from anything but this stupid room. He wearily closed his eyes, nothing was going right.

The only thing he was grateful for was that Webby was safe. Scrooge had taken them back to the hotel shortly after he had arrived, Launchpad had gone with them. The masked face haunted his eyelids, Darkwing wasn't dead. He could feel it. A savory rich smell wafted over him and he felt the scent alone stir his senses slightly. There was a faint sound of a glass being put in front of him. It seemed as if S.H.U.S.H. was finally ready to talk to him. He braced himself for the loud Russian voice or the massive paw to shake him awake, instead he heard a chair slide across the floor and a rather pleasant voice address him.

"I am terribly sorry for the inconvience Mr. Crackshell. I promise I will not keep you much longer."

Fenton opened his eyes and first saw the giant mug of coffee sitting before him, than the kind looking elderly gentleman who timidly sipped his own cup. He was a small man with keen dark eyes that shone with intelligence, the likes of which he had never seen. Fenton scraped himself off the table and sat up as straight as he could.

"I can see you've been completely exhausted, my apologizes." Said the concerned old bird.

"I'm sorry if this comes across as rude but, who are you?" Fenton sighed and wrapped his hands around the steaming cup gratefully. The gentleman chuckled lightly.

"No, no that's quite all right. It's quite humbling actually, I have become far to accustomed to people knowing who I am." He extended a wrinkled hand to him. "I am J. Gander Hooter, director of S.H.U.S.H. it is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Crackshell."

Oh wonderful, he'd screwed up again. He'd gone and insulted the top of the justice food chain. He hastily shook the old hand and was surprised by the firm grip.

"I'm very sorry Director Hooter I didn't mean to..." He fumbled.

"Think nothing of it my boy." He laughed. "In fact, it's all together refreshing, so often I meet people so eager to kiss my derriere that their beaks are all ready brown." His eyes twinkled. "I like a person who is straight forward, so I believe you and I will get on quite well. I just have a few questions pertaining to the unpleasant business at hand."

"Yes of course. What can I tell you? I mean, do you want me to just run through what happened?" Fenton took a heaping mouthful of the angelic brown liquid.

"Well I've reviewed your statement rather thoroughly, I was hoping to speak to you about something a little older." Hooter fixed him with an unnerving stare.

"Okay... fire away," This was odd, what could he possibly be getting at?

"I will warn you that you must speak of this to no one. I am running this investigation privately, so what we speak of in this room shall be strictly between you and I. Do you understand?"

"Yeah..." He didn't like where this was headed.

"Excellent. Now..." He opened one of the files he had before him. "Who do you think killed Dewey Duck?"

"W..What?" Fenton spluttered into his mug.

"Who do you think.."

"I now what you said!" He fumed. "I just don't see how this has anything to..."

"Ask yourself this Mr. Crackshell, why would a young boy's personal belongings be stolen from the lavish abode of your employer and not one of the priceless antiques that litter the grounds?"

"I don't know! I'm not a nutcase like that psycho..."

"Let's not throw names around." Interrupted Hooter coldly.

" I don't believe this! Grizzlikof mentioned you had a soft spot for that caped criminal but really...!"

"Agent Grizzlikof, like everyone else dives into what is presented to them with out thoroughly analyzing the situation. I ,on the other hand, am not to be influenced so easily. Now please answer my question." Hooter calmly interjected.

"No one killed Dewey. There was an accident involving a biplane that had malfunctioned. No one could foreseen that he'd.."

"The piolet was a Mr. Launchpad McQuack am I correct? Wasn't he the fellow who shot Darkwing?"

"Yes! He shot the bastard because he had broken into his home and was coming to get the children!"

"Dewey and his brothers were also on the faulty flight?" Hooter continued ignoring his outburst.

"Yes." Fenton flared shortly. "What does this have to do..."

"Was Darkwing Duck a suspect in the investigation that followed the accident?"

"You know damn well he wasn't. But if we knew then what we know now than hell yes he would be a primary suspect."

"And what exactly do you know now?"

"That he stole Dewey's stuff and tried to kill Webby!" Fenton shrieked.

"He let her go. If had meant to kill her he would have." Hooter said dismissively.

"Pardon me 'sir' but I was there. I saw it! He was set to do her serious harm!" He shouted angrily. "Stop trying to play him off as innocent! He did it!"

"Mr. Crackshell, I have dealt with this man on numerous occasions. He is perhaps the keenest mind I have come across and this whole fiasco is far too sloppy to be credited to him. Whatever this truly is goes deeper than a mindless kidnaping and a dead child." Hooter kept his civil tone.

"Perhaps you're forgetting that this is all over Scrooge Mc Duck! Remember him? The richest man in the world? It goes as deep as Mr. McDuck's money bin!" Fenton was beside himself. How could he be defending Darkwing?

"Then why not steal one of the living children from the start? And why hasn't he made any demands with dollar signs? All he continually asks for is Mc Duck's presence. Does it add up to you? Why would this vigilante want lure Mc Duck here at all?"

"I don't know! If I did do you think I'd be in here ready to beat my head against the wall?"

"Well then..." Hooter opened the second manilla file and pulled out what appeared to be large photographs. "I apologize for causing you such distress over the matter. I see you cannot provide me with any answers to my questions in respect to that. Perhaps you could aid me in what delayed me this morning in speaking with you. These pictures were taken nearly an hour ago on the roof of Shepard's outlet sore, a very popular destination for the fashion friendly tourists. They were in plain view, entirely un-hidden..."

Hooter slid the photos to him. The glossy paper depicted what he had already suspected. Darkwing Duck was pictured standing in his hallmark black costume in broad daylight in the center of the roof. Fenton felt his eye twitch with fatigue, he was hoping he might at least get a few hours sleep thinking the bastard was dead.

"Yeah so he's alive. That should make you real happy." He grumbled irritably as he went to shove the pictures back to Hooter.

"Far from it. There are only more questions raised by these images. Darkwing has never been seen during the day before unless sent for, that and there are more pictures." Hooter finished his coffee his eyes taking Fenton in thoughtfully.

Fenton flipped through the photos annoyed until he saw her. He stared mortified as the next picture depicted her wrapping her arms around the fiend, and kissing him.

"Gandra?"

There was no mistaking it. The perfectly blonde hair and the knock out figure, it was his Gandra. And there she was, on that rooftop kissing the bastard that had damn near killed him and Webby.

"So it is Ms. Gandra Dee. Correct me if I am mistaken but aren't you two involved?"

The exhaustion left him as he was consumed with rage. He stood up so violently fast his chair clattered to the floor with an ungodly din.

"Where is he?" He snarled. "I'll kill him where he stands just tell me where the son of a bitch is!" He slammed his fist down hard on the table.

"Mr. Crackshell, you must calm yourself. I believe you should let us look into this. It feels like a trick.."

"Like hell I'll calm down! He's got her! Brainwashed her or something! Tell me where he's taken her! I'm going to smash his dirty rotten face in to the goddamned pavement!"

"We do not know where either of them are. As soon as they caught on they were being watched they escaped rather efficiently."

"Then I'll find him on my own." Fenton stalked toward the door. "You're wrong about him Hooter. He is the heartless asshole we claim he is... let those pictures be your proof."

Fenton slammed the door on his way out. He would find Darkwing and rip the bastard's black heart out with his bare hands if he had to.

Gosalyn woke up with the sun burning her eyes. She winced and sat up her head spinning slightly. There was a familiar odd smell rising from the shirt she had slept in. It hit her like a ton of bricks. She was alone. The tower was empty. Numbly she raised the collar of the shirt and smelt it. The remnants of sleeping gas lingered on the threads. She jumped out of the bed the world still swirling a bit. This couldn't be happening! She had woken up a few times during the night but he had still been there, passed out, so still she had to strain her ears to hear if he was breathing. Did he gas her and then leave?

"Dad!" She shouted.

The sun was all ready reaching it's peak, it had to be around noon. How long ago had this happened? She scrambled about the tower looking for him, he was nowhere to be found. What could she do? She had no idea where he would go, even if he was in his right mind. Why couldn't she have stayed awake? Why didn't she try to stop him? She sat on the edge of the bed miserably. What was wrong with him? Was he really relapsing? With a shudder she remembered what she had tried so hard to forget these past few weeks. When Quackerjack had grabbed her and held her hostage, he told her such terrible things. Things about Drake she couldn't believe were true... but now. He had told her he killed his family, told her he was blood thirsty, insane... And he had said all this with a grim knowing smile. She couldn't forget the rancid breath or mad eyes that still made he wake up in a cold sweat some nights, she would never forget his words. Drake wasn't his real name, he was a murder, a mentally unstable maniac, and he would turn on her in only a matter time. Or so Quackerjack had wanted her to believe, after what had happened yesterday she wasn't sure what she should think anymore.

She wrung her hands and morbidly thought of how often they had been coated in the blood of people important to her. She couldn't help but feel that Drake was the same. Drake was Drake, her father. She had to help him. She looked around the tower. The Thunderquack and the Ratcatcher were still there but she wouldn't even know where to start using them, and Launchpad sure as hell wasn't going to help her. Even if she did figure it out, she wouldn't get very far without drawing attention to herself. Was all she could do sit here and wait for him to come back? What if he didn't? Her eyes traveled the lonely place, she hated feeling useless but she knew that maybe there was someone on their way to help him. Possibly the only person who could help him regain himself, and she wasn't even sure if she was on her way at all.

"Please Morgana..." She turned her eyes to the frozen blue sky. "...Please help him."

Drake jumped awake at the closing of a door. The room that swam into focus around him was entirely unfamiliar. It was decorated with grotesque photographs in sleek expensive frames and the walls were adorned with firearms of different sizes and makes. The photo of a woman's mangled corpse hung on the wall across from him, it's dead eyes seemed locked on him, he felt his skin crawl. The black, red, and a twinge of yellow color scheme only made the environment more eerie. The guns along the wall were far from ornamental, in fact it looked as if they were used frequently. From small pistols to AK 47's this room was more like an armory. The sun light crept up from behind him and he noticed he was sitting in a large leather chair, a massive window behind him with a dynamic view of the city. This room was really high. His mind raced, where was he? How did he get here? He noticed the sweet yet putrid smoke of a cigar curling up from a solid gold ashtray placed on the mahogany desk he sat at. His eyes then noticed his attire. He was dressed in an expensive black suit with a blood red tie. Just what the hell was going on? It was when he heard someone nervously clear their throat that he recalled a closing door had awoken him. Who he saw standing timidly before him completely floored him.

"Ah... ya wanted ta see me Boss?" Said the well dressed metal mouthed rooster cautiously.

"Steelbeak?" Drake croaked in shock. What the hell was going on!

"Yeh? Hey... Boss ya feelin' okay? I mean no offense or nothin' but... ya don't look so good." Steelbeak looked petrified to be in the same room with him, yet the cool gray eyes held concern.

That was twice. He thought he might have imagined it the first time, but he had called him "Boss" again. This wasn't possible. What kind of sick joke was this? Was it a dream? Drake felt his heart beating so fast it felt like it would burst. This was insane, this couldn't be real. Steelbeak shifted uncomfortably in his silence.

"Uh... lissen if dis is about tha dame..." He flustered. "I.. I can explain..."

Drake couldn't think straight, the odd feeling was back stronger than ever and all he could think to do was run. So he did. He pushed past the stunned Steelbeak who called after him confused and, apparently, even more concerned. He ran down the dark hallway and into an open empty elevator. He jammed the lobby button breathlessly. The doors closed as Steelbeak came out of the office puzzled. Drake couldn't ignore the perplexed stare that the criminal had given him, like... like he had completely lost his mind. He leaned against the cool metal wall trying to collect himself, it didn't work. He scanned the buttons panic stricken, there were fifty five floors. He swallowed hard. Why was he here and why had Steelbeak called him boss? He pushed the lobby button a few more times in a fit of nervousness. What would he do if someone else wanted to get on the elevator... like the beagle boys giving him TPS reports or something crazy. He closed his eyes and tried to fight back the disturbing feeling he had come to fear, the bird was dead... why was this happening? What had happened? Where was Gosalyn? Was she all right? He looked at himself in the reflective metal of the elevator. The suit fit him like a glove... like it was custom made for him. Who did they think he was? The doors parted and the sleek dark stone lobby spanned out before him like a dungeon in a castle. He stumbled out of the elevator his highly polished dress shoes clacking on the equally well polished floor. He was having trouble breathing, and the darkness was fighting to take him over again.

"Sir?" Said a female voice to his far left. He spun around to see a pretty young woman behind a large main desk. "Are you all right?"

The big tinted glass front doors rose to his right and he pulled his eyes away from the shocked eyes of the girl. He shook the blackness away from his eyes and made a mad dash for the door. He threw them open and the cold air slapped him from all angles. The city loomed around him, but he couldn't place where he was. There were no land marks visible, no hints at all. What there was were a lot of were people. In fact he had collided with a few in his hasty retreat from the building. He blended himself in with the crowd, hoping to loose anyone who might follow him, though it looked as if no one was. He glanced back at the unmarked building behind him and felt dizzy with the effort to stay himself. He didn't know why but he felt if he could put as much distance between himself and this building it would be the best thing he could do. The illness was swarming him, in this strange part of the city with people who wanted his head, in someone else's clothes, just treated as a superior by his enemy, and in imminent danger of losing himself again he ran blindly away into the crowds.

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

Felicity Flood and this story are (c) Moi.

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Loong chapter cuz I feel like it. :D As if the plot could get any thicker there is much more here than meets the eye. More questions with out obvious (or false implied) answers. Oh I do love torturing people...Big sorry goes out to poor DW. I beat him up quiet a lot. I will leave you to wonder about just what the heck my mind has cooked up and thank you again as always for being so damn awesome.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Lightning and Fire

His elbows hit angry pedestrians as he pushed past anyone who was walking too slowly for his speed. Drake had left the building a few blocks behind him, he wished he didn't feel like someone was trying to pull a bag over his head so that he could read the street signs. He couldn't stand still too long or he'd start to fade. As he forced his way through the teeming masses of this ghetto he suddenly felt drawn back the way he had came. Something inside him nagged him to stop, to turn around and run toward the building but he bolted onward on pure adrenaline. He was a wreck, afraid, confused, and panic stricken. He could barely see at this point, it was like he was wearing sunglasses in a dark room. He shook his head to fight off the blackness and continued his mad dash.

As he enraged more street goers he heard someone shouting behind him. Reluctantly he glanced back and saw a portly pig woman trotting along squeezing her way through the already fuming pedestrians to catch up with him. He didn't know why but he was oddly drawn to her... fixated. He felt his body sway as he stopped to stare at the woman. She was hideous. Large warts and moles covered her obese form. She ran toward him, her chins jiggling and her beady eyes locked on his. Her hair was a matted mess of gray and the dress that covered her gelatinous form was far too tight and was a sickening blend of orange- green. Her mouth was moving but he had lost the proper use of his hearing... but the word she mouthed make a sickness bubble up inside him. "Drake." He couldn't explain it but he wanted to run to her, this woman who knew his name, but he had stood still too long and the darkness crept back over his vision. In a burst of hysteria he tore off into more solid bodies that quickly fell away as he ran.

He ran until his breath was painful and his limbs were stiff and heavy. He still felt the pull of the pig woman and ducked into a grimey alleyway. He shook his head hoping to fling the sickness out of it, but a golden shimmer caught his hazing eyes. He was not alone in this slimy alcove. He blinked transfixed. A woman stood at the far dead end of the alley, but she was not the sort of girl you would find in this part of the city. She had shining golden hair that fell gracefully over her shoulders to the lower part of her back. She wore a turquoise two piece skirt suit that accented her slim form. Her face was kind and would not be out of place in a fashion magazine. Her blue eyes beckoned to him. Despite her angelic appearance as soon as they locked eyes he felt he would be consumed by the darkness again.

"Come to me darlink. I will make all the pain go away." Smiled the pretty bird as she extended a hand. He found his legs had gained a mind of their own and were quickly closing the distance between them. He fought to regain control but he couldn't, an arrival of the frantic sound of shoes announced that pig woman had finally caught up to him.

"STOP!" Came a demanding voice that rolled over him with a supernatural warmth like a gentle summer breeze. To his surprise he did stop. The pretty face before him contorted in an evil grin.

"Ah, so you join us at last." Smirked the blonde.

"This has gone on long enough. You picked the wrong duck to cast a spell on." The warted pig woman's steps drew near. The elegant woman laughed heartily.

"I can control whomever I choose you meddling brat! And once I have killed you, I can continue on with my plans."

Something was wrong with his eyes. The blonde was beginning to become wavy, like he was seeing her from a distance on a hot day. She saw it too apparently and angrily inspected herself.

"No one hurts my duck and gets away with it." The pig put herself between Drake and the woman, she was distorted as well. His mind started to clear, something was forcing the darkness away.

"You can not break my magic!" Growled the wavy blonde. "I am the most powerful witch in the world! You are but an amateur compared to me!"

"I don't give a damn about who you **_think_** you are!"

Drake stared at the bulging woman before him... no, there was something wrong with him. Her voice was changing and her form was warping. It made him feel even more ill to look at them, but he couldn't take his eyes away. The bird let out an angry growl.

"I will **crush** you!" Screamed the progressively deteriorating beauty.

Drake saw it for an instant. A bright white crystal ring sat on the pig's finger. His eyes were torn away from the familiar jewel when a flash of fire engulfed the blonde's fingers and her hair kicked up with a strange wind. Her blue eyes were alight with rage. With a crackle and a spark the flames shot rapidly towards them. He wished he could control his body so that he could shield himself, pull the woman away to safety. Instead he watched as the woman calmly awaited the angry fire. It was almost upon them when she sharply flicked her wrist and not only did he regain control of himself, but the flames were gone and so was the illusion. Morgana stood fiercely before him, her arms held menacingly at the ready. How could he have seen her as that disgusting pig? The answer came to him when what had been a blonde bombshell was now a short surly looking duck in a morbid black dress and short raven black hair, growled again in anger. This mean looking woman was livid.

"You dare to make a fool out of me? A..a **_nothing _**like you..."

Morgana's hand cut through the air in a fierce arch and there was a sound like a mirror shattering. The outraged witch halted her tirade as a cut split her cheek and a drop of blood slid down her face.

"You have taken this too far. You should have quit while you were ahead... while you still had a chance." Morgana's voice was one he was used to hearing infused with kindness and love but what it held now he was unsure.. It was dark and eerie.

"You are over confident darlink." Sneered the witch.

"Leave now or I will kill you."

"Ha ha! Morgana Macabre you are too much! You stand there threatening me as eef you have nothing to hide. But my dear eet ees too bad you wear your weakness as a corsage. Your precious leetle costumed Romeo is a very easy target..." An evil smile crossed her bill as she flipped her hair. " And not a bad kisser eef I do say so myself."

A vibrant bolt of electricity shot from Morgana's fingertips and disappeared before it hit the sneering face. The small woman narrowed her eyes and a rusted metal pipe flew off the debris littered floor and sped toward Morgana. He was there before she could even charge up a spell. With a well placed swift kick the pipe was derailed from it's target and was flung helplessly upward. As it started it's descent he snatched it out of the air and brandished it before him with a strong test swing. He was poised between the two women and the witch before him had a strange glint in her eyes. If he had to name the look he would have to settle on "lust", he felt his stomach turn sourly. A smile appeared on the older woman's face and she put her hands on her hips.

"Ahh, darlink you truly are something special. Quite a graceful man." Said the deep womanly voice. "Eet would be a shame to end our partnership so soon. A good man ees so hard to find... wouldn't you agree Morgana dear?"

"Listen here lady..." Drake began but was silenced by an arctic chill that bit him from his very soul. He felt her hand upon him and the reaction was not the pleasant tingle he had known but a numbing frost and a stinging that had no real place of origin. Morgana was walking past him, her hand placed almost unwittingly on his shoulder. Her eyes were locked cruelly on this short woman and her demeanor was if he wasn't there at all. It was as if he were nothing more than a lamppost she had absently placed her hand on in passing. Bright white bolts of lightning danced around her and he quickly tossed the pipe aside. Her hand slid off him as she steadily rose into the air, the crackling streaks erupting from her. He turned his gaze to the older witch and saw the once sneering face gaping at her opponent in horror.

"The time for talk is over. I'm going to cut you down to size..." Morgana let out an evil laugh that made him wince. " Not that you can get much shorter."

Drake stared up at the grim beauty. She had never acted this way before, was he stuck in a nightmare or something? She focused all the electricity together, he felt a shudder ravage him. She was bluffing, right? She wouldn't really kill this woman... would she? He felt the static make his skin crawl and the freezing air around him stung his lungs with each stabbing breath. He was suddenly aware of the searing pain that hailed from his angry bullet wound. He could see his breath rise in feeble puffs before him as white spots obscured his vision. He could make out their voices as if he was behind a thick sheet of glass, they were muffled and distant. This deadly cold washed over him and he wrapped his arms around his shivering torso. Everything about this sudden bout of frost reeked of the unnatural. He felt as if he was being torn limb from limb one moment then crammed in a box the next. This sickly feeling pressed in on him from all sides. Was this the witch's doing? He felt the brick wall meet his back harshly, he could barely see and his hands were shaking madly, the soft silk shirt sliding lazily beneath them. This cold was unbearable, he clamped his worthless eyes shut. He felt his legs give out under him and the wall scraped along his back as he fell to sit helplessly on the dirty ground. He was quickly freezing to death, his legs were becoming numb and he was so frost bitten the icyness was beginning to feel warm.

He had lost all perception of where he was or what was going on. It was a bittersweet feeling. He was certain that within the next few minutes he would be stone dead. As he struggled to keep breathing a screaming pain ripped through his skull and a long lost face surfaced in his shadowed mind. An old face, with blue eyes not unlike his, behind small square glasses and a thick gray beard that covered most of the elderly face. His mouth was moving as if he were speaking, his face turned down to Drake's. Those eyes were home to an odd almost emotionless look. This man in his silly looking plaid hat with a large red puff on top was so eerily familiar. A gruff Scottish voice slowly synced to the man's moving mouth.

"... so ya see that's why it's important to remember that hard work and honesty are for tha' uncreative saps yoo'll be outwittin'." the old man cackled. "Noe ya know the key to yoor future mah boy, go make yoor wealth an' keep it!"

A shudder ran though him as he felt warmth creep back into his body. If the cold wasn't bad enough now this reintroduction to heat was as if he were being scoured with a rusted piece of metal. The memory of the old man faded as he came to feel a hot hand on his face. The gentle soft touch had regained it's tingle as he was submerged in a creeping heat that slowly began to thaw him out. Each breath burned, he struggled and succeeded in opening his eyes. Morgana was crouched before him sadness in her soggy emerald eyes. He blinked dumbly as he tried to shake the numbness and regain his voice. The alley was empty apart from them. The witch was nowhere to be seen, alive or dead. He could still see his breath meekly escaping him but her's was in it's normal invisible state.

"Drake? Can you hear me?" Her voice was void of the darkness he had last heard it corrupted with.

He moved his eyes back to her and tried to answer. What came out instead of words was a rasping groan. It seemed like a good enough answer for her because she smiled faintly, her hand swept gently across his forehead.

"I'm so sorry Drake... I..." She closed her eyes and a tear escaped her thick lashes. "I got greedy... I never dreamed it would do this to you."

The numbness faded and the pain returned. She looked miserable and she wrapped her arms around him. Her warmth stung and he couldn't help but flinch.

"What happened?" He croaked having found his voice.

"We're not safe here... can you move?" She asked dodgily.

"Maybe in a couple minutes... what happened to that woman? Who was she?" He felt the ice drain from his legs.

"She got away. She's the one that's been using her magic on you. I don't know her name... but she's strong."

"Using her magic on me?"

"Yes. She was controlling you. She made you do all those horrible things... she used you to bring Scrooge here. I don't know what she's planning but I'm sure it's not good."

"So... she was the one who wanted to kill Webby? She's the one that caused Gizmoduck and the whole city to attack me?" He stared blankly ahead hoping that if he concentrated hard enough it would all make sense, he was wrong. He knew he was angry at the woman for controlling him but mostly he was ashamed. Was he really so easy to manipulate? Morgana's voice pulled him back to reality.

"I'm afraid so... she's very powerful. She could probably cast a spell from halfway across the world and still hit her target. Luckily for me you're tougher than she gives you credit for." She rested her eyes on him. He didn't know if it was his exhaustion or the fact that he was recovering from a near frost bitten death but it was like she was speaking another language. He had to focus hard to understand anything. "I think she's on to our little secret..."

"Uh... which one?" He asked with a half smile.

"That you're my source... I'd hate to think what she's going to do now..."

"Last I saw her she looked ready to jump out of her skin. She was terrified of you." Drake saw the sad glint return to her eyes.

"Yes. She saw the power I drew from you. She'll stop at nothing to even the score I'm sure of it." She looked away from him tormented. "Darling... you aren't angry with me?"

"Angry?" He blinked confused. "How can I be angry when I have no idea what's going on?" He sighed.

She smiled weakly at his naive nature toward her concern. Her hand brushed his hair feathers back and he closed his eyes with a refreshing deep breath free from pain.

"I tapped your power deeper than I should have. I almost killed you..." Her voice was filled with grief. "I was so consumed in getting even with her that I was abusing my power. I felt so strong... so horribly invincible. It was a glorious evil feeling... that I was not strong enough to resist. I had her... I was set to kill her... she was like a cornered mouse... when..." She sniffled. " She stared right past me, the fear faded slightly and an eerie knowing grin spread across her rotten face. I turned to see what she was grinning at and I saw you. You were practically turning blue... I realized what I had done. There was a bright flash and she was gone."

He sat silently for a few seconds letting it sink in. He kept his eyes closed as the last of his feeling returned. So he was just a puppet to the little witch. She must really hate Scrooge to keep hitting him where it hurts. For some reason when he thought about the quadrillionare the old duck from his memory came back to him. Who was he? Why would he remember him when he was near death? Yet another piece to the puzzle of his past he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to finish. Something bothered him, he wasn't sure but he felt that all of what was going on was connected. From the smallest little things to what had just transpired, he couldn't shake the thought that it all fell into some master plan somewhere. He stared at the inside of his eyelids lost in his thoughts until he heard her sniff loudly. He opened his eyes and saw the tears rolling steadily down her face. He remembered that she had told him that she had done this to him.

"Morgana... I'm not upset with you. You didn't know that this would happen right?" She shook her head. He reassuringly wiped her tears away. He could hardly believe that she was really here. It felt like he would be woken up and she'd be thousands of miles away again... and he'd be alone once more. But she was here... truly and he was happier than he cared to admit. "Morg, I've got to thank you. That's the second time you've rescued me from her. I don't even want to think about what would have happened last night if you didn't..."

She smiled lightly.

"You saved that little girl Drake. I only pushed you in the right direction. I knew you could do it."

"Well at least one of us did. Gosalyn was..." He stopped in panic. "Gosalyn! I gotta make sure she's okay! That witch doesn't know about her does she?"

"I...I don't think so..." Morgana stammered taken back by his frenzy.

"Come on... I've got to find her!"

Bud jabbed his finger in to the light up button. A mechanical groan and the grinding of gears sprang into action eager to be of service. For just a buck fifty this machine would twist and turn internally to provide you with a steaming cup of consciousness, or in this case, eight ounces of sanity. He was soaked. The whirring produced a little paper cup that was quickly clamped still by two metal slabs. He dully watched the coffee spew into the cup as the water dripped from his sleeves. At least he could depend on this confounded contraption to function properly. He sighed and rested his head on the brightly colored casing of the trusty coffee machine. The morning had started off so well. Felicity was back, he had gotten a horde of over due paper work done and he was just about to confirm the lunch plans with his wife when... he punched the machine and the paper cup jiggled ever so slightly. Before he knew it he had to rush down to the factory. One of the pumps had malfunctioned and the place was quickly flooding. They had just gotten it all back under control but the day's work was far from over. He was determined to discover what had gone wrong, and then there was still the act of getting the excess water back where it belonged.

She was sure to be furious with him. He gripped the cup and gently blew the steam aside. He really had the worst luck of anyone he had ever known. It seemed like just when one thing went right ten million go wrong. He was soaked to the bone, dripping with the very water that had made him wealthy, the water that had made him a second rate celebrity. His suit was probably ruined but, truth be told, he didn't really mind. After all he had made this company himself, he had worked his way up from the bottom, he had done all the back breaking labor alone in his younger days. There were times he had taken on so much water he felt that he could have been wrung like a sponge. It was almost satisfying to be drenched with soggy socks once again, it was kind of like his life was repeating itself in his head.

The hot liquid burnt the inside of his mouth but he didn't care, it was warm and already setting to work uncluttering his mind. He had a lot left to do, he hoped she would understand... maybe he could make it out to a late dinner with her? He'd have to call and apologize soon of course. There was also the task of getting in touch with Mr. Glomgold. The small bottle was still securely in his shirt pocket but he was really anxious to be rid of it. He didn't know what it was and it worried him. He couldn't leave it any place, if he put it in his office or at home he ran the risk of losing it. He shuddered to think of what he would tell Glomgold if he lost it. So he just hung onto it, and until he figured something out he'd have to deal with it. He crushed the empty paper cup and deposited it in a water logged trash can on his way back to the pump room.

"At least the worst of it is over." He told himself. Really, what else could go wrong?

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

------------------

Ahh sorry I haven't updated in a while. But hey in other news Darkwing came out on DVD the other day! I sadly do not have the money to invest in it (even though I have had a boot leg of the entire series for over a year and a half now... shh don't tell anyone) I still want to support DW in away I can and as soon as I have money (and a job) I'll be sure to pick it up if for nothing else but the crisp clean quality. I did hear something that annoys me though, supposedly they edited the crap out of Darkly Dawns the Duck, I don' t know if it's edited any more than the VHS or what they showed on toon disney but it's still annoying that they didn't put the original cut on DVD. Seriously, I don't get it. But it's better than cutting the pilot out completely like they did with Rescue Rangers and Ducktales, I guess. Seeing as how those two episodes inspired my whole darker fan fiction ordeal, I am glad they are on there in some way shape or form. Any way... thanks for reviewing and giving me your time! I love you guys! X3


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Secret Identities No More

The tower headquarters was quiet. Not silent of course, because his equipment was still performing as if nothing was a miss. There were few things Gosalyn hated more than quiet. She would rather have the horribly lame music Honker's dad listened to pumped into her ears than have no sound at all. When there was no noise to distract her, she would remember things she didn't want to think about. Unfortunately she had been surrounded by a hush for hours now, with no sign of Drake's well being or demise. The tower loomed around her like a monument of what she might loose. Why did everyone she love leave her?

She still remembered her father, she hoped she would never forget him. He was a tall man with bright red hair, a kind smile, and the patience of a saint. He loved to play with her and he sheltered her a bit more than she would have liked him too. He preferred to try and stay on her good side so he would often shirk the discipline and responsibility into her mother. He would buy her dolls and frilly pink dresses, that she'd be forced to wear unhappily on holidays. He tried so hard to see she got what all other little girls wanted, but never really caught on that she'd rather have a catchers mit or a basketball. He was a wonderful man that many adored, he was clean cut and generous, but more importantly to her he was her father. But he hadn't exactly been an angel, he was a bit too quick to judge other people and once he had pegged a person with a label he would rarely lift it. His flaws and perks aside, there was only one thing that mattered. She loved him so much it was painful to think about him, knowing they'd never see each other again.

But now, she had a new father. Drake might have been the sort of man her father would have avoided at all costs. He had a short temper, recklessly followed his intuition, had never once offered to buy her a baby doll, and she didn't even want to know what her father would think about Darkwing Duck. He was different in so many ways she felt that he wasn't a replacement, but he was meant to be there for her. Sure, he was unpredictable and odd at times, but he loved her, looked out for her, and was a bit overprotective of her. He felt just as much of a father as her own had. The winter wind scraped along the tower windows. She had already lost a father, she couldn't bear to loose another one. He had done so much for her, risked life and limb to free her from the grip of madmen, but all she could do when he needed help was sit here. They had been a family for a little over six months but it seemed so natural, like it had always been this way. She wished she hadn't been so snotty with him, she teased him and poked fun at him so often... She really was difficult more than she should have been.

In order to try and take her mind off her pessimistic out look she turned to investigate the incriminating box that lay forgotten on the floor. She rooted through the box's articles and pulled out a few loose photographs. There were a couple of badly taken pictures of what she assumed was Scrooge's house... or mansion in actuality. Blurred images and fingers blocking the subject matter made her shake her head with a smile. She slid the last of the shoddy photographs back into the box and found an older single photo. There smiling back at her were three identical faces. The happy faces before her were so different, it was hard imagine they were the same cold, strange boys she had met just the day before. She stared sadly at the laughing boy in a blue hat and felt like complete jerk for what she had said. They didn't have a father, they just had each other and now they were one less. She replaced the picture and pulled out a worn looking book. The cover was peeling and worn but she could vaguely make out the words "Jr. Woodchuck's Guidebook". She flipped through the crumpled and dog eared pages, neat hand writing littered some of the borders of the book. It was hard to understand, it was all too cryptically specific for anyone else to follow what he was talking about. They were mostly names, places, and what pages he and his brothers had used to aid them. After reading a short blurb about the importance and fascinating use of marbles, she set the book aside to look at length later.

There was a small leather book nestled in among the other boyish things, the edge of it's pages were a shiny gold and the creases in the binding told her it had been used often. She ran her hand across it wiping the dust away and slowly opened it. On the inside cover two pictures were tacked in place by sturdy tape. The top photo was older, wrinkled and creased, it depicted a man and a pretty woman smiling happily hugging three young boys. The second was taken closer to the present and they were again, happy. Though instead of their parents this time they were posed with a pleased looking Scrooge Mc Duck, a portly sweet looking older lady holding Webby, and a younger more carefree looking Launchpad. Her eyes dwelt on the familiar face. It was odd to see him here in this dead boy's book. He looked so enthusiastically ecstatic, he'd never looked that happy when she was with him. She sighed solemnly as she recalled how quickly he had left her... no left them. She was hurt, sure, but she knew it stung Drake even more. He regarded Launchpad as his best friend and she couldn't think of anyone he trusted more. But in the time when Drake needed him to return that unshakable trust he turned his back and walked away. Angrily she turned the page and was greeted by more of the familiar neat handwriting.

Dates from years ago were proudly displayed in the upper left hand corner, this must have ben Dewey's journal. Something inside her told her not to pry, to close it now and not read a word. But, this was keeping her busy, keeping her mind off of brutal visions of Darkwing laying on a coroner's slab. She read the first couple pages and learned of the boys tragic past and how they fell into their current family status. Their parents had died abruptly in an accident when they were very young. Their mother had named her brother as their guardian in her will and so the boys left their home to live with their uncle. Their "Uncle Donald" cared for them for a few years until he was recruited into the navy. Their happy little family was to be split again as Donald left the boys in the care of _his_ uncle Scrooge. Apparently the old codfish was quite good at bad first impressions, and the boys were missing Donald more each moment. It had taken a bit of doing but they wore down the old man's coldness and he soon became more like a second father than a guardian. He began taking them along on his grand excursions and mystery seemed to follow them like flies. Searching for lost cities, ancient treasures, it was like she was reading the script of an adventure movie. Then again, she told herself, someone might say the same thing about her life. She flipped through the sporadically dated pages and found something she had secretly hoped and dreaded to see. There was an entry that had a lot to do with Launchpad.

In a ritzy hotel bar slumped over on the counter Launchpad McQuack solemnly ordered another drink. Now Scrooge had seen just about every emotion this broken thirty year old had to dish out. Which really wasn't that surprising considering he had met the man as a clumsy, energetic fourteen year old. Quite literally he had known Launchpad a little over half the lad's life. This being said he could only remember a handful of occasions when the young man would resort to such abusive drinking. The most memorable was after the accident. Scrooge couldn't piece together why he was acting this way after protecting the safety of the children. In fact it kind of boiled his blood. The closest he could figure was seeing as how Launchpad was a good hearted, sensitive person, who normally felt remorse for other people's injury, he must have been brooding about the shooting. The bullet wasn't fatal but as far as they knew, Darkwing Duck was pushing up the daisies, nothing but a corpse swept off by the waters of the bay. It was a grim thought that made him feel a little sick, so he could only imagine how the young McQuack felt. But even so, this grief was a bit extreme. To get to the bottom of what was ailing him, Scrooge would have to be kind. An easy task, that is of course before the lunkhead went and did something stupid, which always seemed to happen. But since they had been lured to Saint Canard and reunited, Scrooge had noticed a change in the lad. He hadn't been as much of a waste of brains as he used to be, not to sound demeaning of his character, it was just a fact, the guy was a bit slow. Since he'd met up with Launchpad Scrooge had seen a seriousness and mature side of the bird he had never been acquainted with in the past.

As soon as he set a webbed foot in the bar all eyes were upon him and a fumbling host started on a long winded greeting. He shooed the boy away and sat beside his sullen friend.

"Heya Mr. McD." He droned half heartedly.

"Yoo alright lad?"

"Eh." He shrugged his wide shoulders.

"Yoo've been in here all day Launchpad. Doon't ya think ye shood get some rest? None o' us got any sleep last night, tha' boys are catchin' up nowe. Yoo should go on up and try to get some shut eye while ye can." Scrooge suggested as the bar tender gave Launchpad his drink. Scrooge locked him with his keen eyes, he looked terrible. Launchpad stared sadly at the drink but the disconnected look in his eyes revealed his thoughts were elsewhere. With a slow dull blink he knocked back the drink and involuntarily shuddered. "What's eatin' ya, m'boy? Th' boys an' Webby are safe thanks to yoo an' Fenton. Ah owe ye so much, an' ah cannet undastand why yoo've been torturin' yerself. In fact I cannet stand idly by another instant." Scrooge rapped his fingers on the rich wooden bar impatiently. He knew he shouldn't be short with Launchpad, but his temper's fuse was cut significantly shorter due to his lack of sleep. The pilot turned his sad brown eyes to him.

"I don't really want to talk about it, Mr. McD. I'll be okay."

"Ah, but yer eyes say differently. C'mon lad, ah'm here ta help yoo know. Ah may be just an' old miser but ah haven't forgotten how te lissen." He smiled lightly curiosity fueling him. Launchpad sighed in defeat, apparently too weary to argue.

"Well... I haven't been real honest with you Mr. McD, but you never asked me a lot of questions." He started defensively

"Ah undastand." Scrooge confirmed, he suddenly began to worry about what exactly he was going to hear.

"I... I just don't want you to think badly of me." Sniffed the drunken man. There was a commotion at the bar's entrance, but Scrooge hardly noticed. Launchpad was serious about this, he was hesitant and ... scared?

"There is very little yoo could say that would make me think any less of yoo m' boy."

Launchpad let out a miserable sigh.

"I hope you're right about that. Cuz, I really look up to you , you know? And the kids, all of you mean a lot to me. You guys were like my family..."

"We still are yoor family lad." He reassured him. His friend smiled half heartedly and shook his head slowly.

"That's what I thought too... don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade you guys for the world. But, these last few years... I found people who took me under their wing, straightened me out and never let me down." He spoke like every word were being plucked out of him like shards of glass. Scrooge sighed lightly, the racket at the entrance kicked up to a din, it was getting hard to keep ignoring it.

"Ah see. Ah I was hopin' yoo'd sign back on as my pilot but, it seems yoo've found yer place here."

"That's the problem, I don't think I can go back to them. Not after what I did..." He closed his eyes sadly.

"Nowe, if they care fer yoo as much as yoo for them. They'll forgive ye. Nothin' yoo could do, as far as ah'm concerned, could make anyone shun ya." He had to raise his voice to be heard over the disturbance. Launchpad seemed to be cutting to the chase now, he took in a deep steading breath. When he looked at Scrooge again that unfamiliar seriousness was back in his eyes.

"Not even if I shot him?"

"YOU!" Shrieked a voice from behind them.

With confusion lined with shock Scrooge turned to the speaker. Fenton had finally forced his way into the bar and quite honestly Scrooge could understand why they would try to detain him. He looked like hell, like he hadn't slept in days, which as far as Scrooge knew he hadn't. Crackshell's suit was a wreck and his eyes were alight with rage. He stalked hotly toward them. Launchpad looked pretty shaken at the sight of Fenton like this.

"Fenton, what...?" Scrooge began but was silenced when the duck held up an impatient hand to silence him. To his surprise the young man grabbed Launchpad violently the front of his shirt.

"You..." He fumed. "You know who he is!" He looked positively deranged.

"W...who?" Stammered the terrorized McQuack. Fenton jerked him harshly in rage.

"Don't lie to me! I know you've been helping him! S.H.U.S.H. has your voice recorded coming from the bastard's jet! Tell me damn you! Who is he!"

"Fenton! That's enough!" Scrooge shouted firmly. He got an evil glance from the livid duck in response.

"Mr. McDuck he knows! This turncoat has known the whole time!"

"Known what?" He asked numbly. The deep brown eyes flashed menacingly back to the pathetic looking Launchpad.

"He knows who Darkwing Duck is." He growled.

It hit him like a shillelagh. That was what he had tried to tell him.

"How could to keep this from us? After what he did to me? What he did to Webby... to all of us?" Fenton shrieked.

"Y..you don't understand..." Launchpad said weakly.

"Like hell I don't! I never thought you could help him do this! So it was you who tipped him off about Dewey? About Webby and Gandra? What were you going to tell him next? To go pick up my mother? Or would you just have him take a cheap shot at me? Only as Fenton this time?" Fenton growled as he slammed Launchpad angrily against the bar. "You would have told him that wouldn't you!"

"Actually. I figured that out on my own. You don't disguise your voice very well."

Launchpad felt the color drain from his face as he heard the dark voice. He looked over Fenton's shoulder and had to blink hard to be make sure what he was seeing was real. The bar had cleared in the tussle, the host had shouted something about calling the police, while the bartender simply ducked out to save his skin. So the only people left were Fenton, Scrooge, himself and... Drake. Not Darkwing, but Drake. Launchpad couldn't help but feel a dark cloud raise off him, Drake was all right. Fenton kept his firm grip but his attention along with Mr. McDuck's were upon the black suited mallard.

"You?" Hissed Fenton venomously.

"Me." Drake cooly replied. "And L.P. has nothing to do with any of this."

Fenton's hold loosened.

"You've just committed suicide by walking through that door duck."

"I didn't come looking to fight."

"Sure you didn't..." Snarled Fenton as he menacingly began to close the distance between him and the calm looking Drake.

"I don't want to fight you Mr. Crackshell." Drake said firmly.

"What's the matter? Still in pain from last night perhaps? Is the slug your little sidekick here nailed you with slowing you down?"

There was a flash of surprise in those pale eyes, but he only lost his composure for an instant. He appeared to the casual eye to be completely at ease, entirely off guard. But Launchpad's eyes were far from untrained , he could tell Drake was ready to bring the hostile Crackshell down if he had to. Fenton was steadily rolling up his sleeves.

"Can we keep this civil?" Drake asked masking his aggravation. "There has been a grave misunderstanding, I think the only way to right this mess is by helping each other." He kept his calculating eyes on Fenton.

"The only thing I'll help you with is getting into an early grave!"

Fenton threw the first punch. It was strong and angry. It cut the air with a fierce "swoosh" as Drake craned away in a graceful dodge.

"I have been just as wronged as you have! I don't expect you to take my word for it, I just want you to listen to what I have to say!"

Drake was losing his patience and Launchpad could see he was in a foul mood to begin with. If he did loose it there would be hell to pay. He looked over at Scrooge who was still seated beside him. He looked torn, as if he would like nothing more than to beat Drake to death with his own cane. Yet, he clutched it tightly, with a hesitant look in his eyes. He had already seen what Darkwing was capable of and was no doubt weighing his chances.

"Why should we listen to you? You have done nothing but give us reason to gut you!" Fenton sent another angry swing at Drake, who dodged again with minimal effort

"If I wanted to hurt any of you, wouldn't I have done it yesterday in the park?" Scowled Drake, steadily growing irritated.

"Regretting it now?" Sneered Fenton as his grasping hand found an empty beer bottle. "You should have tried something then, maybe you would have stood a chance!" He smashed the bottle and brandished the jagged stem with a smirk.

The civility, patience, and calm facade was suddenly gone as Drake's eyes iced over to harbor a dangerous glint.

"If you really wanna play Jr. go put on your steel plated prom dress." He snarled.

Launchpad could almost see the flames engulfed the crazed Crackshell. The time for banter was over, Drake had pushed too hard on a sensitive subject. Anyone who knew Fenton's secret knew how he struggled with the demon of doubt that lived inside him. He was constantly torturing himself over the notion of his worth without the Gizmosuit. Launchpad knew Drake well enough to know he could have deduced this himself, and obviously he had. Fenton thrust the broken bottle toward Drake's face. There was no quick dodge, instead a blur as Drake's powerful grip closed around the weapon wielding wrist. Unflinching Fenton went to smash his free fist into Drake's face, equally unfazed a well placed forearm blocked the punch. Quick and hard Drake's triumphant arm slammed it's wicked fist into Fenton's throat. The bottle was dropped as Fenton stumbled backwards wheezing. In a lightning fast arch Drake snatched the bottle out of it's fall and hurled it toward the bar. Launchpad jumped aside as the glass shattered on the wall behind the bar to his right.

"Sit. Down." Drake commanded with a snarl.

Stunned Launchpad followed Drake's cruel eyes to the old man who had gotten up from his bar stool, his cane held tight. Whatever motivation had moved him was gone and he looked rather pale. For the first time Launchpad felt the cold sting that always struck him whenever the icy eyes were upon him. Reluctantly he swivelled his gaze away from Scrooge and back to the friend he had wronged. To his surprise the face he saw was not a rage filled glare but a playful exasperated look. With out words his face said : What's the deal with these guys? You sure know how to pick them L.P. Launchpad had to fight back the urge to laugh but a half smile crept across Drake's face as he saw at least L.P. wasn't going to try to attack him. The calm passes as Fenton regained his breath.

"I...am...going... to kick... your ass." He snarled through his strangled breathing.

"This isn't going to get us anywhere. As long as she's still out there none of this will end." Drake seemingly more at ease knowing his friend wasn't going to lunge at his jugular, responded coldly... his composure returning.

_She?_ Thought Launchpad in confusion. With a glance he could see Scrooge had no idea who he meant. Fenton however, seemed jarred slightly. Whatever suspicion he held he didn't drop his fierce attitude.

"I'll bite." He snapped. "Who might you be referring to?"

"A mean little bugger about..." Drake held his hand to the middle of his chest. "...this tall. Black hair, thick Transylvanian accent, dresses like she's on her way to a funeral, has a knack for witchcraft... ringing any bells?"

There was an abashed silence.

"The bird..." Fenton said to himself. "That was her raven..."

"So you do know her." Drake smiled in relief. He pointed at Scrooge. "She's after you. I don't know why."

"So yoor in league with th' witch then." Scrooge responded.

"No." An unreadable expression flooded Drake's face. "I'm afraid she thought it was a good idea to hijack my body for a few joyrides." Drake said bitterly.

"You honestly expect us to believe this garbage?" Fenton didn't drop his aggressive attitude, but the seed of doubt in his eyes was enough to tell the fight was no longer in him.

"I don't expect you to believe anything apart than she's out there. Too close for comfort for all of us. I can guarantee that my mind is my own again, she won't be using me anymore. Now..." Drake haughtily crossed his arms with a smirk at Fenton. ".. That wasn't so hard was it?"

"Say yoor crazy story is true. Howe can ya be certain ya won't succumb to another spell?" Scrooge sounded suspicious, which Launchpad deemed reasonable and natural. Drake locked eyes with Launchpad again.

"Let's just say my lucky charm will be looking out for me."

_Did he mean Morgana? She was back? _ Launchpad smiled inwardly. He knew he should have been more suspicious like Mr. Mc Duck, but it all made so much sense. He knew what Magica could do... and Drake hadn't been himself lately. Really he felt that this was the first time he had seen his friend in a month.

"I can tell you're still not happy with me. Believe me, I don't blame you, but I can only hope you return the courtesy of keeping my secret identity 'secret' as I have with yours Mr. Crackshell. It would also be useful if that blasted bounty was taken off me, I could investigate easier if I didn't have to keep an eye out for gunning grannies looking for some extra pocket change."

"Not on your life..." Fenton started.

"Ah shall see to it personally." Scrooge cut in. Fenton gaped at him and Drake eyed him carefully. "Anyone Launchpad can trust as fully as yoo deserves a second chance. But ah am not in any means trustin' yoo."

"That's fair. You certainly are a smart man Mr. McDuck and I hope the next time we meet it will be under better circumstances."He nodded to Scrooge and turned to leave. He stopped quickly and hesitantly turned back to them. "Actually I have one more question for you..." He seemed to be floundering, like he was searching for the right words. "I never got the witch's name..."

"Magica. It's Magica DeSpell." Launchpad answered immediately, before he had a chance to think, or someone had the chance to stop him. Drake stared off in thought for an instant.

"Right. Thanks L.P. Well... good luck Mr. McDuck , Mr. Crackshell... you're going to need it."

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

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Hmm... just a random Disney factoid for you guys. Huey Duey and Louie were the sons of Donald's sister Della (Dumbella) Duck and her nameless husband who was Daisy Duck's brother. Thanks everyone for your support and reviews!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Admiration

Even though she was anxious, she did what he had asked her to. Morgana had sensed Launchpad in distress as she and Drake were making their way through the city. He had fully recovered from his near death experience and had taken the news rather calmly. Just being so near him made her feel like she was unstoppable. Knowing they were together again, she felt like she could level the city at his command. Instead he asked her where the pilot was, so that he could settle this for himself. She began to raise an objection when his gorgeous eyes stared deep into her and he asked her to find Gosalyn. She knew trouble was waiting for him. Whoever was with McQuack would like nothing more than to cause him serious harm. But he wanted to go alone, or rather, he needed to. So she had gone. Both she and Drake knew that Gosalyn would more than likely be in the tower, however, he had learned to hide the fear in his eyes but she sensed it coming off him in waves. He was afraid for the little girl and had choosen her to go in his absence to make sure she was all right. He probably didn't even know how sweet the action was. Though they'd been apart for what seemed like a lifetime, after all he'd been through, after the careless way she had acted, he still trusted her with all his heart. How could she deny his request?

In the time they had been seperated she had felt him across the distance like a small patch of sun in a cold world. Soon after they had parted she couldn't shake the notion that his warmth was shrinking as the bitterness of winter crept into the weather. In the last few weeks she would lose him completely. It would happen when she was onstage during one of her acts, and sometimes just sitting around with the marvels. He'd be gone. She didn't understand it, not even now. The witch's spell was one thing, but for her to completely lose track of him? That could only mean two things, either he was dead, or a large build up of negatrons. She now saw that he was alive, but the negatrons were missing. After she had felt him disappear a third time she knew she had to come find him. Her friends in the circus sent her off quickly with no desire to hear her apologize. Seeing her worried always made them worried, especially when it came to the Mallards. So she had started her fumbling quest to find him. She had arrived in the city only after the witch had ensared him personally, her skin crawled at the thought of that monster kissing him. She had found him none the less, even though it was like trying to find a scrap of thread in a dark room. She was moments away from hopelessness when she felt a tug in her stomach and followed it breathlessly. When she saw him, even in his frantic enchanted state, the world seemed so much warmer.

Having to leave him so soon was painful. Literally. Each step that parted them was all the more agonizing but, she had done it. She got to the tower and as soon as she was in visual range of the hideout the girl's aura greeted her. Gosalyn's aura was pure, light, and magnificent. Which was a marvelous feat for a child who had already been a victim to countless unfortuneate miseries. When she arrived at the hideout the girl's eager eyes, alight with hope, dimmed ever so slightly when they saw her. A dazzling smile lit up the expectant face and she quicly found the girl's arms wrapped tightly around her middle.

"Morgana! Are you really here?" Came the muffled voice from her waistline.

"Yes dear, I am." She stroked the wirey red hair tenderly. Moments later great big green eyes were locked on her desperately.

"Dad's gone! He might be hurt.."

"No. He's fine. He'll be meeting up with us soon." She smiled down to the charming face.

"I knew you could help him! I'm so glad you're here! You're sure he's okay?" The child spoke quickly, as if she'd forget how speak in a few seconds. Morgana closed her eyes and focused on his gentle light.

"He's quite all right. He was worried sick about you though. Are you hurt?"

Gosalyn removed herself from Morgana with a look of harsh determination.

"I'm fine. Morgana who's doing this to him?"

The vile little woman danced across her memory and she couldn't stop the scowl that crept across her face.

"Don't you worry about her. I'll see to her myself."

"Yeah..." An evil grin slid into place on Gosalyn's bill. "I bet you know all kinds of sweet spells to pound her! I bet you'll zap the jerk into a pair of smelly gym socks..." She rubbed her hands together plotting. "Or you could turn her into a chocolate doughnut at a fat camp! Or how about you magic her into a public toilet!"

In response, Morgana simply blinked. In reality she had no elaborate plans for the cause of all their distress. She just wanted the witch dead. Cold, yes. In fact it was a little unsettling to think about how firmly she felt about killing her personally. When did she become so blood thirsty? She didn't want Gosalyn to know, but the girl was barely paying attention to her at the moment as she spun countless creative punishments for the woman. Morgana found comfort from her conflicting morals in looking around the tower. This place was filled with nothing but the happiest memories she had, this place was his. Everything here was almost like a part of him. Before she had left she had tried to commit this place to her memory, but now as she slowly took it in again she noticed the discrepancies. Over the things she had forgotten, there was something odd. A strange feeling that something was out of place, something was here that shouldn't be, then she saw him.

Shocked, she gripped Gosalyn's shoulder a bit harder than she intended. She hesitantly looked down at the confused little girl.

"Gosalyn, what were you doing before I got here?" She whispered.

The girl's wheels started to turn to find the wording to keep her out of trouble.

"Well, I was trying to figure out what was going on with Dad so I found some...uh... books. I just flicked through them I didn't do anything wrong!"

"What kind of 'books' might these have been?"

"Uh..." Gosalyn's mind kicked into high gear.

The interrogation was cut short by the sound of fast approaching dress shoes. Two pairs of green eyes locked on each other in suspicious anticipation as the sound grew louder. Before too long they heard him call out their names shortly followed by his flustered arrival into the room. Gosalyn was upon him with a cheer. She threw herself at him wrapping her arms around his neck and though Morgana saw him flinch he smiled a smile that made her weak in the knees.

"Gos... I'm so glad you're okay..."

"You too! But where'd ya get the fancy duds?" The little girl pinched the black suit fabric in her small hand. "Ugh.. You smell like a burning fart factory."

Morgana laughed, he did smell like cigar smoke... but she'd hardly categorize it the same. Having him so near again was like being engulfed in eternal spring, warmth, peace and unprovoked happiness bubbled up from the depths of her very being. His beautiful eyes said a soundless thank you and all she could do was smile bashfully. She wanted nothing more than to finally have him take her in his arms, but they were full of his daughter at the moment. So instead of his loving touch she felt a cold hand brush her elbow. She looked down at the misty figure beside her.

"You can see me!" Declared the voice that echoed through forgotten realms.

_Yes I can see you young man, but whom may I say I am seeing? _She found it was easier to communicate with spirits with her thoughts. The transparent boy glanced back at a half unpacked box then looked sadly up at her.

"You can call me Dewey."

Miles away Louie stirred restlessly in the hotel's grand bed. He was so exhausted but he just couldn't seem to fall asleep. The thick maroon curtains were drawn in a valiant attempt to block out the sunlight. As a result the sun lit up the fabric and made them look like they were glowing. Huey was snoring loudly, of course he never had any problem falling asleep. Louie slid his arms under his pillow and started at the "glowing" curtains.

The night before still bothered him. They had been safely stationed at Launchpad's for a few hours before they were attacked. He had taken Webby so easily from them, even when Launchpad had stopped trying to reason with him and shot him, he still got her. It was like the monster hadn't even felt the bullet. The figure dressed in black... what was his next move? Oddly enough Darkwing Duck was not the real reason he couldn't fall asleep. His face was still sore from where she had hit him. He just couldn't seem to get her out of his mind. Gosalyn Mallard... she was so... different. Not to mention really pretty, heck she even threw a mean punch. He rolled over onto his back and looked intently at the flowered wallpaper over the bed. Huey let out a snort amid horrendous snores. Huey had flirted with her shamelessly, probably just to get under his skin. It worked. How did he always know when he liked somebody? He always found a way to tease him or embarrass him about it too. He was getting really annoyed until she put his brother in an unbreakable headlock. He smiled in the warm darkness. She really was something special. She was so difficult and defensive it would be near impossible to befriend her now. But he was up for a challenge. Maybe if he was in the park at the same time again today he'd see her?

_No_, he thought sadly. _Uncle Scrooge would never let me go alone, and if I snuck out again he'd behead me! _

Perhaps he could get Launchpad to take him to her house... but what would he say? He closed his eyes with a sigh of defeat. Trying to talk to girls was hard enough bat talking to girls he liked was worse. He would have to see if he could get another opinion on what he should do. Fenton had a pretty girlfriend, maybe he could give him some advice? Even Launchpad had a good share of girls when he was working for his Uncle. He'd have to corner one of them later and try to get some pointers. But for now, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep.

Magica's hands were still shaking. How could that little snot be so lucky to have found her magical source? And who would have dreamed it would have been Darkwing? It was positively ridiculous! Even though she did have him there should have been no way she could be _that_ strong. Even if it did involve drawing away his life, it just didn't make sense! Knowing that the whelp was stronger than her made her want to nuke this whole damn city! If she could just get Darkwing. If she could enchant him again, she knew she could hold him forever. Nothing Morgana could conjure would be able to free him once she had his energy under her thumb. But she couldn't find him. The irritating wench must have casta spell to shield him from her powers. She sat on a dilapidated staircase in the run down alleyway she currently haunted. She would have to leave the cretin alone until she had finished her business with McDuck. If only she could get it... the playing field would be evened. A gust of wind swept cigar smoke over her and she leapt to her feet in surprise. He was leaning on the wall beside her watching her with his usual eerie stillness. How did he get there? She should have heard him! She didn't like this man, not at all. He had set the "rules", before he had told her about Morgana. Despite how much she disliked him, she couldn't help but feel fearful of the thought of him growing tired of her.

"What do you want Glomgold?" She flared angrily. He exhaled a curling shroud of gray.

"She sure is something isn't she?" He said with unmasked admiration. "Radiant, I believe is the right word. I told you to leave her. She's too strong for you, especially if **_he_** is with her." The word was spoken with a burning hatred that made her fight down a shudder.

"Well they're together now. How do you expect me to get anything done with your stupid lettle rules? I am Magica DeSpell! You cannot tell me who I can kill and spare!" She snarled. He laughed darkly. "Oh I see, so you've come to gloat then have you?" She flared her fingers itching to conjure up a painful death for him.

"Partially. But mostly I wanted to see that you did remember our agreement."

"I haven't forgotten." She seethed. Her anger seemed to amuse him to no end.

"Marvelous. You truly are a pleasure to work with. I can see why my great Uncle Flintheart has called upon your skills in the past." Smiled the young man wickedly.

"Your 'great uncle' ees not half as thorough as you are Duncan." She admitted numbly. He laughed pleasantly, but she couldn't help but feel it was a crueler gesture than the evil laughter he had used before.

"You flatter me, but all I ask is for you to try and control that temper of yours. Especially since you're in my city... going after my prey."

She glared at him as hard as she could as he smoothly ambled away. He paused before he left the shelter of the dodgy alley, a sleek black limo pulled up in front of him. He turned back to her.

"You know, if you really want your little trinket so badly, I have a plan that would suit both of us just fine. I get to have some fun for a change, and you'll have gotten what your black little heart desires. A win/win situation I believe. If you're interested you know how to contact me." With that he disappeared into his extravagant ride which drove away slickly, like a shark through dark water.

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

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Magica's too pissed off to even throw in some "darlink"s... heh.

Kind of a short update... a bit of a "calm before the storm" type chapter. Expect things to pick up again pretty soon. Hm, not much else to say. But like always thanks for the reviews and your time!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Seeing Double

In a silent suite in the Canardian Bilton, Fenton Crackshell had finally gotten the chance to sleep. He had spent quite a bit of time fighting his own suspicions and the bitter feeling he couldn't shake. He had screamed himself hoarse at Mr. McDuck and Launchpad after Darkwing had left them. He knew that they felt inclined to trust him, Launchpad especially, but he couldn't shake his lingering doubt. Scrooge was still apprehensive but, Fenton couldn't be so easily convinced. He had fought him, had seen pictures of Darkwing kissing Gandra. Even though he knew Magica was involved he was still in a fiery state, but was he really supposed to buy the cad's charade hook like and sinker? His attitude and outright unwillingness to forgive Darkwing even a scrap had resulted in a fierce agreement. They had gotten so mad at him Scrooge had whapped him with his cane a few times and Launchpad had stormed off. He couldn't really remember what was said, it was all a blur. He was covered head to toe in welts and bruises but the exhaustion he suffered he just felt numb. So now he slept. He had managed to remove his suit jacket and tie before he collapsed onto the neat bed. His dreams were odd and reflected his uncertainty clearer than he had hoped. One depicted J. Gander Hooter running around in a black cape and mask swinging a bat around at a Gizmoduck pinata. There was another one that was equally uncomfortable. He was having lunch with Gandra but it seemed like every time he took his eyes off her she transformed into Magica DeSpell. He wasn't sure which woman's company he kept. Was it a spell of Magica's making the ever lovely Ms. Dee look like the witch, or the foul woman disguising herself?

He stirred in his slumber and felt the sheets around him. He roused slightly, he hadn't been under the sheets when he had fallen asleep. There was a heaviness weighing down the bed by his feet but he was too tired to really care. There was a soft electronic ring and the person sitting by his feet scrambled to silence it.

"Hello?" Said a gentle enchanting voice softly. "No, no Mrs. Crackshell he's fine..." Fenton opened his eyes and rested them on the shadowy figure of Gandra. "I'm with him right now." She whispered delicately. "He's just sleeping... yes I'll tell him. Okay... Good bye."

Her blonde hair cascaded down her back and hung around the middle of her back. She was wearing her usual two piece skirt suit though in the muted light of the room he couldn't determine it's color. He kept his calculating gaze on her as she daintily put her phone away.

"So, you've been busy lately I hear." His voice had begun to recover from his shouting match earlier but was still a tad scratchy. She turned to him quickly.

"Oh Fenton! I'm sorry I didn't mean to wake you!"

"What are you doing here?" He could see the photos Hooter had shown him disgustingly clear in his mind. She looked genuinely hurt.

"I was worried about you. I got your calls but when I tried to call you back your phone was off. I just wanted to make sure you weren't hurt."

"And you just so happened to be in the city anyway... am I right?" He frowned.

"No..." She stared at him confusion lining her comely features. "Fenton... what is going on?"

"You really thought I wouldn't find out?" He snapped coldly.

"Find out what? What are you talking about?" She asked exasperated.

"Oh I don't know..." His sarcasm stung the still air. "Maybe that you've been fooling around with Darkwing Duck behind my back!"

"What!" She cried in disbelief. "That is the most ridiculous..."

"S.H.U.S.H. caught you two lovebirds on film sweetheart."

"But... I didn't! Fenton I was in Duckburg all day at the factory. Why would I...?"

"Well he's not some clown in a suit with the brain of a bean counter." He growled angrily.

"Oh don't start that again... you know how I feel about your crazy hero inferiority complex!"

"Well did I ever tell you how I feel about your backstabbing unfaithfulness?" He retorted bitterly. She blinked at him, her pretty face in a state of hurt mixed with rage.

"Mr. McDuck told me you were in a horrid mood but this is too much!" She declared as she scooped her coat up and stood hotly. "If you stop being an idiot and feel like apologizing to me I'll be at home!"

He crossed his arms and closed his eyes. When he did there was a playback of his dream. Magica changed into Gandra on the back of his eyelids. It all snapped into place. He shot his hand out as he opened his eyes and grabbed her wrist.

"Wait a second!"

"I have nothing else to say to you!" She struggled fruitlessly to free herself.

"What would you say if I told you Magica DeSpell is a slimy little rodent, two bit magician who isn't even fit to perform at children's parties?" He watched her closely.

She eyed him puzzled. There were no lightning bolts, no fiery inferno, there was just Gandra and she was looking at him as if he were mad.

"Fenton, I think you might be ill... you should just get some sleep."

"No, I think I finally understand..." He looked off lost in thought. "It was all a trick. She just wanted to get to me... make me angry enough not to think straight."

"What are you talking about?"

He put his hand gently over the one he held captive, she stopped struggling.

"I'm sorry Gandra... she played me for a fool. I fell right into the witch's hands. She knew if she used you against me... "

"What? Is this Magica person impersonating me, or something?" She asked as she slowly sat back down.

"Yes, she knew exactly what you look like... how? She knows... how does she know about you? " He felt a new wave of dread crash upon him. "And now you're here... you're in danger."

She put her hand gently on his cheek.

"According to you I'm always in danger." She smiled sweetly,

He released her hand and firmly put his arms around her. He could smell her perfume, feel her warmth, she was here, he wasn't dreaming.

"You usually are."

The day was melting away quickly. The sun was nearing the end of it's lazy trek toward the horizon. It had been four o'clock when Drake last checked. The quiet part of the city he was currently passing through undetected made his weary mind recall the chaos of the strange place he had regained his senses in. Where else would this day lead him? As if on cue he arrived at his destination. The condemned apartment building loomed before him, the large cracks and holes in the structure adding an extra supply of eeriness. Darkwing sighed to himself as he tugged on his gloves to be sure they were on snugly. It felt like he was with his girls for a heartbeat before he had to leave again. He had discovered that there was an encrypted message from J. Gander Hooter being aired over and over on a secret "secure" S.H.U.S.H. channel. He had hacked into it years ago, before he had met any agents face to face, back when he had just started his crime fighting. So it was a daily routine for the computers to monitor the channel, and record it's activity. He saw the code, and found himself able to decipher it rather quickly. Hooter had requested a private audience with him at a set of coordinates that changed every half hour.

Morgana and Gosalyn had told him not to go. They were sure it was a trap, that Hooter was just trying to lure him into an ambush. But, it didn't feel like a trap. S.H.U.S.H. had attempted to catch him once before, he had known about it days in advance. If this was a big scale mission he'd have heard something. Plus, he liked to think he and the Director were on good terms. He didn't hesitate to consider Hooter the cleverest man he'd ever met, and he respected him greatly for that. He just didn't see Hooter going through all this trouble to slap him in irons. The elderly gentleman wasn't as black and white as he appeared, he had even offered Dark a position in S.H.U.S.H. Was he just being naive? Perhaps. But he wanted to talk to someone who might be able to give him more information on the current position of this whole mess. Dark entered the treacherous looking structure. The hallways were decaying masses of wood and plaster. The floor creaked precariously beneath his boots and the stair cases moaned as he quickly scaled them. The stairwell spit him out on the floor that the message had given him. The late afternoon sun shone through cracks and remains of the windows illuminating the dust that floated lazily in the air.

He stepped into a rather sturdy looking room. There was a expensive looking desk flanked by a pair of equally impressive chairs, they were all adorned with the shield emblem of S.H.U.S.H. It was almost funny how out of place they were. Darkwing stood in the doorway, eyeing every inch of the room. It was deserted. Or so it seemed, he was sure he had decoded the coordinates properly. He strained his eyes to see what they were missing, he tuned his ears to pick up what was barely audible. He smiled, Hooter was testing him. He was exhausted and completely drained but he wanted to do this. He wanted to be here, wanted to prove he was still as sharp as ever, as sharp as Hooter expected him to be. For a change he was faced with a challenge that wasn't something he couldn't combat, this was something he was good at.

The gander was here, Darkwing could feel it. He looked down at the even sheet of dust that coated the floor. He crouched to inspect it at a different angle, the leather of his boots creaking slightly. His cool blue eyes surveyed the floor. Hooter must have come in through this door, it was the only way in. He took off his hat and swept it through the air above the floor. The dust stirred revealing a faint set of footprints that were aimed at the desk. He smirked confidently. There was only one place Hooter could have snuck that would make it look as if he had left and knock dust back over his footprints. Dark swept across the room and hopped on top of the desk. He set his hands to work on the low ceiling, seeking out the hidden panel. At this vantage point he could see the ceiling a few feet in front of him sagging ever so slightly... damn he loved being right. His fingers caught the edge of the seamless panel and he slid it aside, dust pouring down on him. He leapt up and pulled himself partially into the crawlspace. He rose to greet a gun barrel aimed point black between his eyes.

"Well, this is a fine howdy do." Dark grinned.

"Good afternoon Darkwing. I see you received my message after all." Said Hooter casually.

"I did. You've gone through quite a bit of trouble here J. Gander."

"Had to be sure no one else answered the call."

"Of course. I suppose if they had, and managed to find themselves here, found you here in this spacious hidey hole, the poor sap would find a barrel shoved up their nose panic, and flee. Although... if I did actually get your message and found you, you knew I'd see that the safety was still on." Darkwing's smile clearly expressed his pride at how clever he was.

"Well played Darkwing. " Laughed Hooter as he put the gun back in his holster with a bit of effort. There was barely enough room to breath in the small space, Dark wondered how long he was crammed in there. "We should talk with our feet planted firmly on the ground, I believe it is getting a bit crowded up here."

Darkwing let himself fall back onto the desk below and stepped off it gracefully. He situated himself in the chair that sat across from the desk as the old man followed his lead. Hooter dusted himself off as he sat down, and cleaned the dust from his spectacles.

"It is refreshing to see you are still on top of your game Mr. Duck." Hooter commented as he placed his glasses back on his face. " My agents would like me to think other wise as of late."

"Yeah I'll bet. How is Agent Grizzlikof handling this whole McDuck fiasco?" Dark asked with a sneer.

"Oh, he is positively livid, as to be expected."

"So I get the feeling you are th only agent not out to get my head on a silver platter for Scrooge."

"Quite literally. I am afraid this 'McDuck fiasco', as you aptly put it, has got us all on edge. No one is sure of what to make of you Darkwing." Hooter's eyes held a glint of suspicion.

"Oh? And they did before?"

Hooter cracked a small smile.

"Darkwing, are you truly involved in all of this nonsense?"

"I was an unwitting pawn, but I guess I was involved all the same." Hooter perked a curious eyebrow. "I'm sure you've heard the name: Magica DeSpell before, am I right?" Dark watched the director nonchalantly.

"Oh my yes. I have indeed. Is she behind all this?" Hooter folded his hands calmly.

"As far as I can tell yes. But I'm not sure if she's working alone. What is her obsession with Scrooge McDuck anyway?"

"From the top of my head I recall her being fixated on obtaining a coin he has in his possession. I certainly hope Ms. DeSpell does not call in the aid of her antagonistic allies. I'd hate to see anymore of Duckburg's trash scumming up my streets."

"I don't think she'll draw any attention to herself, she'll try to keep a low profile. What was so special about McDuck's coin?"

"Apart from sentimental value nothing. It was the first dime McDuck earned, he considers it lucky. "

"Somehow I don't think 'luck' is what she's after." Darkwing scowled in thought. Could it be Magica had done all this for a coin? Was that true? It was such an insane concept, but it was the only motive he had at the moment. He noticed Hooter was watching him like a hawk, there was more curves to come from this meeting.

"So it would appear you have gotten yourself a lady friend." Hooter said plainly.

Darkwing had to hide his surprise, had to fight he urge to inspect himself. Did he have Morgana's hair on his cape? Lipstick on his bill? He fought back his anxiety, it was impossible. Hooter couldn't know about Morgana, as far as he could recall the only people who had seen them together were trusted allies, and there were only a handful. Hooter was analyzing his silence.

"Have I?" He answered tonelessly.

"Someone would like me to think so."

"Who might the lucky girl be?"

"A Ms. Gandra Dee."

Dark couldn't hide his bafflement, which seemed to please Hooter.

"Who?"

The well dressed old bird unlocked a drawer in the desk and produced a stack of photographs. He handed the images to Darkwing who took them curiously. It was the blonde. The woman Magica had looked like when he first saw her in that alley. He flipped through the images, and his stomach lurched sickly. Apparently he had kissed her, no wonder why Morgana was so mad. But, was she a real person or just a disguise that Magica hid behind?

"Who is she?"

"She is an administrative assistant in a bean factory out in Duckburg. She's got no criminal record apart from a few speeding tickets, she is supposedly the girlfriend of a Mr. Fenton Crackshell..." Hooter started.

"She's Gizmoduck's girl?" Dark choked. He shook his head at the picture, he couldn't say much about her taste in boyfriends...but... if Fenton was shown these pictures, he definitely would be hostile toward Dark. "... well that explains a lot."

"My word..." Said Hooter stunned. "You truly are remarkable. I do hope you won't abuse the knowledge of his secret identity."

"Don't worry J Gander. I've already settled things with him."

"Of course." Hooter looked a bit too smug for Darkwing's liking. There was still more? It was like he still had an ace he hadn't put on the table. Darkwing tried not to notice. "I hear Isabella is in the city on business." Hooter smiled knowingly.

"Excuse me?" Darkwing blinked all finesse gone from his demeanor.

"Isabella is making her annual rounds through Saint Canard."

Dark stared at him. Was this another test? Was it a code word or something? He searched his brain but found nothing except a headache.

"...and... she would be?"

Hooter looked slightly crestfallen.

"It appears I have made a false presumption. Pardon my foolishness." He picked up the forgotten stack of photos and shoved them back into the drawer.

"Isabella who?"

"It's nothing. Never mind." Hooter snapped with finality.

Dark blinked. What was that? He was mad. Whoever this woman was, Hooter expected just the sound of her name to get a reaction from him. He'd have to see if he could find anything about this Isabella. There was the shrill ring of a phone and Hooter fixed Darkwing with a thoughtful look. Hooter kept his unblinking eyes on him as he raised the sleek phone to his ear.

"Hooter." His eyes flashed with a moment of shock. "Repeat that." Hooter gave Darkwing a meaningful look, like his eyes were capable of dissection. "Darkwing Duck has taken hostages?"

Darkwing sat up stiffly. Hooter held up a hand to him and shook his head.

"Have you the identities of the hostages? ... My stars. This is serious. ... Yes, I have to agree Agent Grizzlikof however I do not think a rocket launcher is the best solution to returning the hostages to their family. I must insist no action be taken before I arrive. ... I will depart immediately, be sure to restrain Gizmoduck until I arrive. We can't risk the hostages safety over his impulsive nature, do I make myself clear? ... Good. I will be there shortly." Hooter clapped the phone shut and tucked it away. "You wouldn't happen to have a brother would you Darkwing?"

"What's going on?"

"I appears you have taken McDuck's great nephews captive and have yet to make your demands."

"Where are they?" Darkwing stood up anger coursing through him. Had Magica taken on his appearance this time? Hooter rose out of his chair and began to walk briskly across the room. Darkwing gave chase. "Where!"

"Darkwing I must ask you to sit this one out. The situation is far too delicate for me to allow you to recklessly participate." Hooter quickly passed through the broken down building making his way down the first flight of stairs, Dark trailing after him, his cape billowing around in the dust they were both kicking up. "I suggest you wait for me to return so we may discuss what we will do about you're devious double."

"I'm not going to sit here while someone dirties my name with these lies anymore!" Darkwing flared.

"The lives of two young boys are at stake here. I believe their safety is more important than your reputation at the moment." Snapped Hooter coldly.

"Then let me help! I can stop this!"

Hooter froze in his tracks and Dark did as well. The old man turned to him clearly aggravated.

"I will not help you Darkwing. In the eyes of the law, the city, and S.H.U.S.H. you are an outlaw. Be grateful that I have given you the benefit of the doubt and didn't shoot you when I had the chance. If you think the thought did not cross my mind you are sorely mistaken. I have been too lenient with you in the past but mark my words: One way or another your little fantasy will soon come crashing down upon your head. You have done nothing to secure your innocence in this ordeal, so tell me Darkwing Duck, why should I tell you anything?"

The two men stood a yard apart from each other but the distance felt more like a ravine. The words stung Dark harder than he had expected. There was only one reason why that would be... it was the truth. There was no reason why Hooter should help him, no reason why he should give him confidential information. He knew Hooter didn't suspect him of the kidnaping but he had no way to prove he wasn't in his right mind when Magica had used him to steal from McDuck. He was damned suspicious, and he had nothing to prove he wasn't the bad guy. Not to mention, the last time Hooter had asked him to return a missing person, there was less person to return than when he went missing. Quackerjack had seen to that.

"I see you have no answer for a change. Good day Darkwing. I assure you we shall recover the boys quite alright on our own." Hooter continued his stride leaving Darkwing hurriedly behind.

He felt all the anguish he had pushed aside come back over him in full force. He was in pain, he could barely see straight out of weariness, and he was helpless to combat his newest foe. To top it all off he had just been cut down to size by the only law official he admired. Maybe he should just stop. Give it up while he still had a chance... not get involved and get more people hurt. If Hooter knew what he was capable of and told him to stop... he was probably just living a pipe dream anyway. He frowned harshly as the dust coated his costume. Hooter sighed loudly and paused with his hand on the stairwell door.

"But there is always a chance that with your excellent monitoring equipment you intercepted a transmission and heard that the McDuck heirs were being held captive on the seventeenth floor of the Canardian Bilton in room 1714. No one would be able to stop you if they didn't know you had heard it." Without a backwards glance Hooter left.

Louie glared at the costumed duck who was watching Huey and himself with amusement. If only he hadn't fallen asleep, if he had stayed awake, went to talk to Launchpad or Fenton about girls, would they even be in this mess? Would they be his prisoners? He had thrown them in the large hot tub that was installed in middle of the suite's floor, their hands and feet bound, sitting waist deep in water. His shirt clung to his wet feathers and his brother was forcibly made to sit back to back with him. Darkwing hadn't spoken, hadn't uttered a word, but whenever one of them would try to ask him something he'd pull out a taser. He'd let the electricity dance around menacingly between the two metal prongs with a cruel sneer as he lowered it toward the water. Needless to say no further conversations were attempted. He had no idea what Darkwing was trying to do. He hadn't made any demands and he didn't seem interested in listening to the police negotiator who was trying to talk to him by use a megaphone. Even though he could be heard, Louie was sure the police were hanging back, not getting too close to the room. They were probably clustered a few yards away from the door, this was going on for fifteen minutes now. Darkwing looked rather pleased with the whole thing. Without warning the duck turned his icy eyes on him and pointed.

"You." Growled the gruff voice. "Which one are you?"

Louie met the glare with one of his own.

"Don't be shy now kid or you'll make me angry. And if I get angry there'll be an awful big pot of duck soup waiting here for your dear old Uncle." A horrible grin slid across his face as he ignited the taser again.

"I'm Louie."

"Louie... right, right. You look so damn much a like. So tell me Lou, you ever wonder what life would be like if he..." He nodded at Huey. "...had died instead of the other one?"

"I..."

"Of course you have! Both of you have... what would have happened if dear old Doofus was alive..."

"Dewey." Snarled Huey.

Darkwing's smile faded and he began to circle the tub.

"My mistake. You know boys, I wanted to take your little female cohort captive again, you know finish old business, but with her gallivanting around the suburbs it would take your old fart of a great uncle ages to even notice she'd gone missing. My attention span is not what it used to be, and as we all know dead children don't serve as very good bargaining chips. So then I find out you two are right under his nose sleeping like little angels..." He squatted so they could both see him. "**I hate angels**..." He snarled seemingly distracted momentarily by his choice of words. " I decided to get you two instead, so if I do get bored I can kill one of you and still have Scroogey chewing on his spats. And let's face it fellas, this isn't very interesting."

"Just tell them what you want!" Said Huey angrily. "You'll get it!"

"So used to being held for ransom are you? But, I never said I wanted anything." Darkwing eyed Huey with a smirk. "Maybe I just want to kill one of you. To be honest boys, the attempts to rescue you are mediocre at best. I half expected ol' Giz to bust down the door by now, you did too no doubt. Don't be too insulted, my guess is that S.H.U.S.H. won't let him until J. Gander gets here. They always want to do things his way first, such a pity really. Things are just so boring with out big oafs to smack around and from what I gather Hooter's gonna take a while to get here. So now it really just boils down to one question... which one of you would be like to be an only child?"

Louie felt Huey shudder slightly. The cold eyes were taking in every movement, analyzing them like a murderous machine. There was a decision reached behind those eyes, and a grin split across his features.

"You know, I have an idea. I really have no preference as to which one of you lives, and I wish I had an opportunity like this when I was your age. So, I want one of you to choose."

"No way!" Huey shouted hotly.

"Okay, look at it this way, how was your childhood? Was it happy? Any part of it that you feel outshines anything good that has happened since then? If yes, then why would you want to ruin it by growing up? You want to grow up, get a boring job doing tedious thankless work? Every night going to bed more dead inside than the last? If you gave yourself up, you'd not only save your _darling _brother's life, you'd guarantee that you'd never turn into that. How about it Lou?" Darkwing slid a shining black gun out from a holster on his back that was normally hidden by his cape and ran his finger down it's barrel. "Or, are you more like me? Your childhood had some intoxicating moments but for the most part it was denied. But I took the reigns and now I'm on top of the world. Up to growing up to be somebody Hue?"

The man on the megaphone suddenly stopped speaking. After a bout of feedback a new voice took charge.

"Lissen here yoo...yoo... masqueradin' miscreant! Let mah boys go this instant!"

Louie couldn't hold back his relief at the sound of Uncle Scrooge's voice. Darkwing laughed sharply and stood up.

"Just the duck I've been waiting for..." he looked down at the pair of them. "You think carefully about that answer now, I'll be back to hear it in a minute."

"Yoo carpeted charlatan!" Squawked the voice as Darkwing made his way smoothly across the room toward the door. He let the door swing open and stood back crossing his arms.

"McDuck!" He shouted pleasantly. "Nice of you to finally join us!"

"What do yoo want yooo... yoo monster!" Shrieked the amplified voice.

Darkwing eyed them again the gun still in his hand.

"Oh not much. Just a few things from you. First how about you bring me that dime you always carry around with you." Darkwing grinned cruelly at the abashed silence.

"Fine." Said Scrooge sounding a tad defeated.

"Excellent. Then I think you should let someone else have a shot at being 'the richest man in the world'. Don't get your kilt in a knot gramps, nothing drastic, but I hear Mr. Flintheart Glomgold has been trying to out do you for years. As I'm sure you know he doesn't have your god given good health, so why not give him a thrill as a last act of kindness? You should write out a juicy little check for him before his condition worsens." Darkwing inspected his gun thoughtfully.

"This is unbelie..."

Darkwing shot off the gun the bullet diving into the floor inches away from them.

"Stop! Ah'll do it!" Panicked Scrooge. "But let me see mah boys first!"

"Sorry _Unca' _Scrooge you can't see them, but you can hear them if you please." He eyed them. "Say hello to your concerned Uncle boys."

"Don't do it Uncle Scrooge! He's going to kill us anyway!" Screamed Huey.

"Huey's right! You've got to tell them to come in here and stop him!"

"See? Safe as your money bin." Smirked Darkwing. "Incidentally Scroogey, which one is your favorite?"

"If yoo harm one feather on their..."

" Yeah, yeah, you'll get the bagpipes and give me a lesson in real punishment. Listen here, you'll do what I've asked quite quickly if you don't want to have two more dead nephews to add to your collection." Darkwing reached out and closed the door. He stalked back to them, his grip on the gun was unnerving. He wasn't bluffing, he really was going to kill one of them. "So, made any decisions?"

"Why are you doing this?" Louie asked trying to hide his terror. The cool blue eyes looked off in thought.

"Because I want to." He said with a pensive blink.

"What did we do to you?" Huey asked weakly. Darkwing shook his head.

"You two are getting off topic. So answer me this Hue, is there anything you would regret not doing if I blasted your brains all over your brother right now?" He spoke like he was carrying on a pleasant conversation concerning the weather.

"That's... a trick question isn't it?" Huey answered.

"Is it?" The blue eyes flashed with malice. "Is it really a trick question, or just a tricky answer?"

"I don't want you to shoot Louie just as much as I don't want you to shoot me."

"I never asked you what you wanted. " Darkwing looked Louie up and down. "Oh yeah... I forgot. You'd regret not talking to that Mallard girl again am I right Lou?"

Louie glared at him so hard it hurt. How did he know about that? He hadn't even mentioned her let alone how he felt out loud. His silence seemed to please their tormentor beyond words.

"She is a cutie all right. You'd be able to win her over sooner or later, I mean you're practically Richie Rich. Your Uncle would help you get her anything she wanted if you just asked him. Yeah, you'd regret not kissing the little firecracker. Way to go Lou! You made the decision for me." Darkwing grabbed Huey by the back of his shirt and dragged him out of the tub.

"No! I didn't say anything! Please don't do this!" He shouted.

"Be a man and don't beg." Scowled Darkwing. He forced Huey to kneel down facing Louie, pressing the gun to the back of his head. Huey's hazel eyes started at him in silent horror.

"No! You can't do this!"

"I'm doing you a favor... trust me." Darkwing said with a horrible note of sincerity.

There was silence. Louie sat in the water breathless, helpless. Fenton would come. He had to. Huey couldn't die... no Gizmoduck would save them just like he always did, he had to. His brother's eyes pleaded with him, but there was nothing he could do.

"Don't you have anything to say to your murderer brother, Huey?"

"Louie..."

There was an explosion of shattering glass. The heavy curtains danced as the cold wind swept into the room. Darkwing laughed.

"Well it's about time you showed up!" He changed his aim to the person that was hidden by the billowing curtains.

Without so much as a bat of an eye, Darkwing kicked Huey back into the tub. Louie and his brother struggled to untangle themselves from each other. He knew it. Fenton had finally come to help them! Now he'd clean this jerk's clock for sure. The boys managed to sort themselves out, both of their eyes alight with the confidence they harbored for Gizmoduck's victory. He'd wheel out of those curtains and pound the plumage out of Darkwing like it was nothing. There was a crunch of broken glass as their savior came out of the sea of swirling fabric and into view. Louie felt his jaw drop, and saw Huey do the same thing. It wasn't Gizmoduck... it wasn't even Fenton... it was another Darkwing.

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

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Figured I'd get this up quickly to you guys, since I start my new job tomorrow and I have no idea how time consuming it's going to be. So yup. Hope you enjoyed it! I'll try not to keep you hanging for too long! Thanks as usual for all the support!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Old Rivals

The cold wind bit him and the maroon curtains flapped about his face, but he wasn't mistaken in what he saw. Drake took another step toward his doppelganger. Huey and Louie, though obviously confused and scared, didn't look like they'd been harmed. He could hear Scrooge McDuck shouting into an amplifier out side the suite, but all he could really pay attention to was the person aiming a gun at him. This person's expensive firearm was steadily and effortlessly aimed directly at his heart. It was eerie, like he was standing in front of a tainted mirror. Was this magic? He couldn't explain it, but he was almost positive it wasn't.

"Once again you butt in and ruin my fun." Said the dark voice that was just like his own, only seasoned with a bit more growl.

"Who are you?" Drake demanded as he cautiously moved out of the flowing material.

"That's right," Said the double with a sneer. "You wouldn't remember me would you? Well, I'll just dumb it down for you. We used to be real close rivals." He said with a bit of a chuckle. Drake failed to see the humor. "So, Dipwing Dork, you've come valiantly to these little brats' rescue, I assume? But here's a better question, who's going to save you?"

"I can take care of myself thanks for your concern." Dark couldn't ignore the strange feeling he had. It was hard to describe but, he felt like he had found something he'd lost, like he was whole. "Now that you know the answer am I going to have to mop the floor with you or are you going to let the boys go peacefully?"

"Don't be an idiot you coward! You don't really think you can beat me." Grinned the doppelganger as he pulled back the hammer on his pistol.

"I know I can."

Darkwing took in his surroundings. There wasn't much he could use and he was obviously under armed. He had his little array of non lethal weaponry, but staring down a gun barrel pointed at him by himself, kind of made him wish he had a tank. He had a feeling that his best weapons would be his brains and his brawn. Hopefully, whoever this person was, he wasn't as quick or as strong as he was. But he'd have to close the distance between them first, with out taking a bullet to the chest. Darkwing closed his hand around the handle of his gas gun, concealing his actions the best he could.

"Go on. Give me your best shot." Sneered his double, obviously quicker and smarter than Drake had hoped.

Darkwing flung his arm up and aimed the gun at the figure and pulled the trigger. Over the familiar bang of his own gun as the gas canister left it, he heard the unmistakable sound of his opponent's weapon discharge. It was fast, instantaneous and before his canister had a chance to go anywhere the bullet hit it and it exploded around Dark. Stunned he took a step back as the blue smoke fell around him. He shook his awe and put the gun away. He would have to use his fists after all. Darkwing cut through his fog and came upon his smug counterpart. He flung a strong punch toward his face which was deflected with a laugh. He shot his foot straight toward his stomach, but he moved quickly to the side and smiled still.

"My turn." Announced the dark voice.

The precise and steady aim snapped back onto him. Darkwing tried to knock the gun away but got a nasty pistol whip instead. The handle of the gun slammed hard into the side of his head and he swore he heard his skull crack. He stumbled back clutching his screaming head. A soft chuckle escaped the rogue as Dark tried to blink sight back into his eyes.

"You are so pathetic. I guess some people never change."

"You're working with Magica aren't you?" Drake snarled, his vision returning.

"You could say that I suppose. I'm not sure why but she's terribly fixated on you. I mean you are devilishly handsome, but why anyone would be interested in a nothing like you will always baffle me." His double blinked thoughtfully. "Now the _Mistress_ on the other hand, I wouldn't mind meeting her." A snide smile crept across the fiendish face.

Dark saw it for an instant. There was a small opening in the double's defenses. He decided to take another shot at fighting him. Dark sent his tightly drawn fist as fast as he could only to find it blocked. He threw another and it met the same fate. It was insane! He was too fast, it was incredible, like he knew what was coming before Drake did anything! He could read him like a book, he could predict what he was going to do, was that it? Was he being too predictable? His head still stung, and he thought of something he had never done before. Something no one would do after what had just happened. The sneering face was inches away from him as he side stepped another useless fist. Darkwing inhaled deeply to brace himself and with a painful crunch head-butted the imposter. Drake shook the agony out of his mind and saw he had succeeded. His double fumbled backward trying to regain himself and Dark quickly kicked the gun out of his hand. An icy pair of blue eyes glared at him with a hatred he could never fully comprehend. It was unnerving to be on the receiving end of his own eyes.

"Well well… It seems you've grown yourself a teeny bit of a backbone since we parted." Grumbled his livid double. "But it will only make crushing you all the more enjoyable. I'll have you in tears before you know it."

"Unless you're about to start spewing comic genius I doubt that." Dark retorted sharply. The doppelganger gave him a roguish smile.

"Aren't we witty? How do you manage that with no brain I wonder? I also wonder if it was just your dumb luck that carried you this far. I wonder if it was your dumb luck that led you to what I've been searching for these last few years. Tell me coward, how is it that you found her before I did?" The hate that resided in his eyes was only building. "How is it that I have been seeking her out, have had agents scouring the globe to find her and you in your infantile ignorance stumble right into her?" There was no more smile, only the anger on the familiar face as he lowered his voice just so Drake could hear him. "Morgana is **_mine_**. She was meant for me and I'll be damned if she's going to stay with you."

"I can't say I know what you're talking about." Darkwing coldly lied.

"Of course you wouldn't '_Darkwing_'." The double scowled at him then a cruel grin replaced his rage. He turned to the boys, who were frantically trying to free each other. "Oh incidentally Louie, if anyone can give you advice on how to get on Gosalyn's good side, I'd start with her dear old dad here." The eyes flashed evilly back to him. "Oh no, that was supposed to be a secret wasn't it 'Drake'? That is what you call yourself these days, am I wrong?"

Drake's blood was boiling he couldn't contain his temper. How did this happen? How did he let himself fall prey to such a horrible plan? He lunged at this duck who knew too much. He wanted to shut him up, wanted to make him stop looking like him, he wanted to throttle the last breath out of this bastard. Instead, he felt a pair of prongs press against his chest and an agonizing current of electricity ravished every centimeter of him. When the blinding, disorientating, pain ebbed away he found himself gasping painfully on his knees, hunched over. It hurt to breathe and his flesh felt like it was steaming. Over the discomfort he heard a sound that made him flinch. The sound of the taser came again, its electricity crackling menacingly but it wasn't coming for him. He shot his eyes to the sound and saw his tormentor dangling it over the tub where the boys sat terrified. He felt his painful breath catch in his throat, as the grim mirror image grinned, the weapon sliding slowly and mockingly through his fingers.

The door suddenly exploded off its hinges announcing the arrival of Gizmoduck with police back up. The rolling rust bucket launched into a speech but Drake didn't hear the words, the taser had been dropped. He jolted himself up, he ran as it spun in it's descent he wouldn't let this happen. With every ounce of strength he could scrape together he swung a well aimed kick that hit its mark. The taser's charged prongs connected with the steel toe of his boot sending more volts screaming up his leg before it careened off into the far wall. His mad dash resulted in him not only being electrocuted again but caused him to stumble into the cold water unable to steady himself. He could barely move but his devious double did not suffer his ailment. The imposter didn't waste a second. He grabbed a hold of Huey like he weighed no more than a rag doll, pulled him up as a human shield, and slowly backed up toward the broken window.

"So you're ganging up on me? That's not very heroic of you _Giz_."

Panels and doors snapped open on the mechanical suit and an arsenal swung into action.

"Let the boy go this instant, you fiend!"

There was a distant sound of a helicopter wafting in on the wind and a ladder fell into view outside the large window.

" I take it McDuck isn't going to meet my demands. So be it. If he won't give me what I want I'll take what he wants." He held onto Huey as he grabbed onto the ladder. The boy struggled madly.

"Stop!" Bellowed Gizmoduck as he began to wheel toward the shattered window.

"No. You stop or I'll let him fall."

Gizmoduck screeched to a halt. Darkwing blinked dully and saw Louie glance at him hesitantly. This wasn't it. He wasn't going to give up and let Huey be kidnapped. With a groan he managed to stand, the water pouring off him. When he turned to face the doppelganger he found he was smirking at him.

"You know, I have an idea. Darkwing, why don't you be a good sport and hobble on over here?" Growled the smiling face.

Reluctantly Dark moved toward the window, trying to block out all the strange looks from the people around him. He couldn't support himself properly with his poor electrocuted right leg so he walked with a limp, that seemed to make his 'old rival' blissfully happy. He approached them, attempting not to notice the desperate look in Huey's eyes. He was close, close enough to wrap his hands around the bastard's throat, close enough to see that there really was no physical difference between the two of them. The identical duck spoke to him in a malicious whisper.

" I know you. I know everything there is to know about your ridiculous little existence. I know what happened to your parents, I know where you were institutionalized, I know how you lost your memory, I know how you got your new life, your new name, I even know all about your precious little family and friends. I can tell you more than you'd ever want to know. I'll tell you who I am and how I know all this. I will tell you if you chase me, if you grab onto this ladder right now. But, if you do… you'd have to let Huey die." With out so much as a blink he threw the boy out the window and began to scale the ladder. Darkwing jumped up on to the widow sill the ladder rising steadily upward. "We both know what you're going to do!" Cackled the shrinking face.

Huey screamed as the air rushed around him deafening his ears with the ferociously of his fall. The floors of the hotel zoomed by him with a blur, he could see himself reflected in their windows. The ground was coming to greet him too fast when something collided with him from above and he felt a strong arm wrap firmly around his chest.

"Hang on!" Shouted a voice in his ear.

He turned his head and saw Darkwing Duck taking aim above them with an odd looking gun. His heart stopped, it had to be the good one, right? The gun fired and a grappling cord shot upward. It was too late, they had fallen too far. His defeat must have been clearly displayed on his face because Darkwing looked at him meaningfully.

"Don't give up yet kid… don't forget who's up there."

There was a sudden stop to their fast descent. Huey saw Darkwing struggle to hold onto the gun, above them, barely visible, Gizmoduck held onto the hook.

"Hang on fellas!" Came Gizmoduck's far away voice. "I'll have you back up here in no time."

They started to rise steadily and Huey returned his gaze to his caped savior. He had so many questions, so many things he was dying to say. "Thank you"s and "who the heck was that guy"s, but what he heard himself say instead was.

"Are you really her dad?"

The blue eyes slowly turned to him uncertain how to answer.

"We won't tell. You saved me and Louie, your secret is safe with us, Woodchucks' honor."

"'Woodchuck's honor' huh?" grunted Darkwing amused. "I guess I'll have to be at the mercy of those honorable Woodchucks."

He could see Darkwing's arm shaking with the strain of keeping his grip on their literal lifeline. Huey recalled Webby describing the same thing when she had been held by him over the rocks, when she told them they just thought she was in shock. He guessed he'd have to apologize to her. The window was almost within their reach and as they rose to it hands shot out to pull them to safety. Huey felt Uncle Scrooge's surprisingly strong hands bring him back inside and the second his feet were back on the ground he found himself crushed in a hug.

Darkwing's now free arm was snatched by a pale looking Launchpad. He gladly took the aid and found himself with two grateful feet planted firmly on the carpet. His arm was burning from the strain, and his shoulder was very uncivil as well. He met McQuack's worried eyes.

"Do these kids ever stay out of trouble?" He grumbled.

"Not as long as I've known them." Smiled his friend as the fear began to fade from his face.

"Figures."

Gizmoduck came barreling toward him and Dark instinctively jumped into battle position. A panel on the duck's helmet shot open and a helicopter propeller sprung up from it as the hero stopped before him.

"Come on Darkwing we can still grab him if we go now!"

Dark was about to agree when an elderly voice interrupted firmly.

"No." J. Gander Hooter approached them with an air of command that made them both pay attention. "That helicopter is incredibly well armed. I had two S.H.U.S.H. choppers give chase immediately, they had to retreat and perform emergency landings after only a few minutes of pursuit. If you two go out there you will be obliterated."

"So you're just going to let him get away!" Darkwing heard the words he wanted to say come out of Gizmoduck's mouth first.

"J. Gander we can do this." Dark told him firmly.

"Darkwing you can barely stand, what would you do if he did permit you to follow him?" Hooter put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "We haven't lost him forever, we'll see more of this 'evil' Darkwing, I'm sure of it."

"I can follow him! I can find out where he hides!" Argued the helmeted duck.

"I don't believe you could, no offense of course. He doesn't want to be found, and until he does we have no option. But for now this is a victory and I forbid either of you to commit suicide by going after him, if you attempt it S.H.U.S.H. will detain you faster than you can blink."

"Direktor." Interjected a loud voice. "I vould gladly voolenteer for dat assignment."

"Aw Griz, and here I thought you didn't like me." Sneered Darkwing momentarily forgetting his pain.

The massive bear had lumbered up behind Hooter, the scowl he wore was one he had perfected and reserved only for Darkwing. Dark had to try hard not to laugh, there were few things he thought more amusing than Grizzlikof's dedicated unprovoked dislike of him. The bear's great snout wrinkled in disgust at his comment.

"I don't."

Hooter cleared his throat loudly.

"Darkwing, are you sure you haven't seen this person before?"

"You mean apart from whenever I look in the mirror?"

"Do you have any idea who he could be?" Hooter overlooked his sarcasm, keen observation glittered in his old eyes.

"I have no idea..." Darkwing sighed rubbing the pistol whip welt with his good hand. "He seemed to know a hell of a lot about me though."

"This could prove to be quite a problem..." Hooter said as he got lost in thought.

Darkwing started to become aware of just how many people were staring at him. Police officers, S.H.U.S.H. agents, a few random hotel workers, the McDuck clan, and amid them he saw her. The real her anyway. Gandra was giving him a strange look, he was sure she knew what Magica had done. He saw a flash of pink push past the milling crowd and Webbigail fought her way to Huey and Louie. She flashed him a brilliant smile. He felt so odd. Like he was in a spot light. He wasn't used to being the center of attention. As a matter of fact he longed to slink away into the shadows, now if only he could fine one. Gizmoduck was carring on an outraged conversation with an ill tempered Grizzlicof and Launchpad had gone to give the boys a bear hug. Scrooge was currently watching the children with a smile, they were completely fine... he wished he could say the same about himself. McDuck's eyes moved slowly away from his heirs to rest on him. No words could possibly deliver the true translation of the look he received. Relief, eternal gratitude, and a twinge of awe. Dark longed to sneak away even more, he didn't do this for glory. He didn't do this for looks like that, that was something Gizmoduck did. He did it because he had to, because it's what had to be done. He did it because something deep inside him told him he had too. All the thanks he wanted was to get eight hours of sleep and spend sometime with his girls. The girls! That double had known about them! What if he had gone to the tower to hurt them? To snatch them? He had to get out of here, had to make sure they were safe!

Bud's eyes were bleary with exhaustion. He and a small crew had salvaged the problematic pump and all that remained to be done was to climb into the pump to tighten the filter. It was something he'd done a hundred times before so he let them go home. He wanted to take a breather before he attempted it, he wasn't as young as he used to be and certainly wasn't in as good of shape. He wrung the water out of his jacket, the clear liquid splattering to rest on the already slick floor. He had his tools out, he would be done in less than an hour then he could lock up and finally get home. His train of thought was derailed by the sound of high heels clacking on the drying floor. He turned curiously to see Felicity approaching him. She was wearing a sleek form fitting dress that hugged her like a glove. She held a paper bag with a fancy logo printed on it, left overs from the lunch date he had missed no doubt. She didn't look too annoyed or terribly understanding, she just glanced around idly.

"What a mess." She concluded.

"Tell me about it." He sighed.

She put the bag down next to his tools and faced him. He went on wringing the water from his jacket.

"Felicity, honey I'm sorry I couldn't..."

"I had a feeling you wouldn't show up." She said calmly. "That's why I came up with plan B."

"I really meant to call you, I didn't mean to..." Her words caught up with him and he blinked. "What?"

He turned to face her and barely saw his utility wrench before it crashed down on his head. There was no pain just a jolt and then blackness. When he regained consciousness he felt the searing pain that split his head. He was lying face down in a puddle and he felt so weird. His hand reached instinctively to the pocked that had held the vial and felt nothing. It was gone. He could feel something floating in the air above him. An odd sensation, like an echo of emotions, fright and excitement hung over him. There was a strange taste in his mouth, a thick sticky liquid coated roof of his mouth and tongue. When he swallowed he could swear he felt thousands of small creatures swarming around him. He felt them all, and they felt him, he was sure that if he tried hard enough he could see himself through them. But that was crazy talk. He painfully opened his eyes to look around the steel place where he lay. There was a fine mesh grate a bit ahead of him and a light shone down from above. The materialized emotions had originated from that port hole, the light was currently obstructed by a curvy silhouette.

"Are you awake Bud?"

"F...felicity?" He groaned. "What happened?"

He sat up still disorientated and groggy. With a hollowness he realized where he was. He was in the pump and the ladder was gone.

"I'm afraid you took a nasty spill into this horrible machine and with out warning it turned on."

He felt the cold bite of cruelty pouring off her like a waterfall.

"What are you saying?" He cried in disbelief.

"I'm just guessing what the police will say when they come to break the news to me gently. Of course, they'll also discover you'd been drinking..." The small vial was dropped to clank into the machine. It was empty. "I never knew you carried a quick drink around with you Buddy. It will only help me in the long run."

"You made me drink that stuff!" He panicked.

"You drank it of your own free will as far as they'll know."

"Why are you doing this!"

"Why?" He was stung by her anger, her mad pleasure. "Because I want to be rid of you Bud Flood, but I would like to keep your money."

"Your not serious... let me out of here!" He shouted trying to push his new sense away.

"You know, if you had just come to lunch I would have poisoned you, it would have been neat ,quick, painless, and a lot easier to cover up."

"Get me out of here now!" He was breaking down, he didn't believe it but his new found sensitivity to her true feelings told him she wasn't bluffing. This drug Glomgold had given him was making him see what a monster she really had become. She didn't seem to hear him.

"Now you have to die this horrible watery death, but I guess it is a deserving way to go. After all you always did put this company before anything else."

"Please! You can't do this!"

"I might miss you sometimes, but my new wealth, power, and my young new lover will more than fill the small void you'll leave behind. Oh, and I wouldn't worry about your precious company I'll see it's auctioned off to the highest bidder."

"Felicity!" He shrieked.

"Good bye Bud." The light went out as she closed the hatch.

He felt her rush of adrenaline as she activated the machine. The roar of water quickly came upon him. This couldn't be real, her spirits soared as she hurriedly left. The water crashed around him, and slammed him hard against the filter. The heavy flow of water crushed the air out of him and once again he felt the consciousness of the microorganisms that inhabited it. In this darkness the liquid forced itself down his throat and up his nose quickly flooding his lungs. The pain ebbed away as the effort to hold his breath faded. The last bubble of breath was meekly forced out of him. No one would come to save him, he wanted to die. There was just no reason to live.

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

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And there he goes. Say good bye to Bud Flood kids, when we next meet him he will be very different. :) There is quite a bit of story left to tell so expect more twists ahead and no peace and quiet for DW or anyone else for that matter. As usual thanks for your reviews and kind words. I would be nothin' with out you guys! You give me such a confidence boost and often make me blush with your praise... you guys are the best!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

F.O.W.L.'s Legacy

Gosalyn glanced up at Morgana over the top of the Jr. Woodchuck's guidebook. They had been here for a few hours without any contact from Drake. The sorceress had been silent for a long time, staring off into space, it seemed like she was listening to something. Gosalyn couldn't hear anything worth listening to so she decided that she must have just been lost in thought or whatever it was grown ups did. The sun had sunk past the horizon and it's red glow clung desperately in the sky. She wished Morgana was calm like that again, for the past forty five minutes she had paced nervously all around the tower. It worried her that Morgana was so worried, did she know something she didn't? Gosalyn sighed as the raven haired woman disappeared to make another restless round. She really liked Morgana, she had since she first met her. She was different, she was pretty, smart, tough, and could cast some wicked spells. Most of all she liked her because she could tell she and Drake really loved each other. They made each other happy and that was something Drake needed more of. Sure, he had been happier since he adopted her but when he and Morgana were together it was like happy times ten billion. That is, when things were calm, which they really hadn't been lately. She turned the page in the book languidly, they had such a strange relationship. Drake had tried to explain to her why odd things happened when they were close but she always lost interest when he would start rattling off scientific mumbo jumbo. That was one thing he was bad at, he had trouble dumbing things down.

When he left them to go meet with J. Gander Hooter, she had taken the opportunity to ask Morgana to tell her, with the hope that the woman would be able to make it clear. She couldn't let it rest, it was just so out there. She had seen people in love before, walking down the street not to mention all the kissy stuff on T.V., they were giddy and misty eyed idiots. Now Drake and Morgana had those moments but lights never flickered or shattered for anyone else. Butterflies also didn't turn into birds around other people either. When she had asked, the woman paused a moment in thought, and it was soon displayed that she didn't have Drake's technical handicap. She described their relationship to be similar to a battery. Just like everything else magic has to be powered by something and it just so happened that Drake was the battery for her magic. Being so close to him made her magic stronger and a bit more difficult to contain, which was why those strange things happened sometimes.

The anxious beauty came back around from her patrol, they hadn't really spoken since that conversation. She held the large worn book in her lap, glad for it's company. It was keeping her overactive imagination at bay, keeping her mind away from those dark thoughts that were obviously devouring Morgana. After she had almost been caught reading Dewey's journal she decided to leave it alone. She had read quite a bit of it however, and had learned a good deal of Launchpad's "past life". She could see why he was so happy to see these children, why they were so glad to see him. They had been extremely close, and she doubted the strength of her friendship with him while reading it. She wondered where this would lead him. She didn't want him to leave, even though she was still annoyed with him, but if he wanted to go how could she stop him? She sighed and shook her head clear of those thoughts as she scanned the new passage before her. There seemed to be information about everything in this book, apart from anything useful to her at the moment. She wasn't surprised when her search for "magical possession" turned up nothing. Morgana suddenly stopped pacing.

Gosalyn returned her eyes to her and saw her mystical green eyes staring fixedly on the bay entrance shaft. After a moment of silence a smile passed the pretty face as the sound of a motorcycle engine rumbled up the shaft. The elevator started it's loud ascent as the engine was silenced, Gosalyn quickly placed the Guidebook back in the box. She didn't feel like chancing getting reprimanded . The air seemed to grow warmer; no doubt her magic was behind that. He rose into sight, his eyes shot to each of them in panic that quickly faded to relief. Gosalyn smiled as Morgana threw her arms around him and the lights dimmed ever so slightly.

The day was finally over, the moon was parading proudly into position in the clear night sky. It had been a most grueling day, indeed. Steelbeak hadn't been this worn out in….well, in a long time to safely say. He ran a hand through his plumage with an exhausted sigh, his life was far from a cake walk. He was the Boss' go to guy, pretty much he was second in command to the organization. It still felt so surreal to think about it, he was so high up in command in the organization he hadn't dreamed of running in his wildest dreams. His well polished shoes clacked rhythmically up the stair well. He remembered the times when he was no one. He had his face dragged in filth constantly, he had become a recruit for F.O.W.L. back when he was still a spring rooster, back when the place was run by three chairmen. The Fiendish Organization for World Larceny had become his home when he had nowhere else to go, and it turned out to be quite a horrendous one at the start. He was beat down and talked down to, he wasn't even offered a chance to make agent, even though he knew he could do a stupendous job. They denied him that right and even the opportunity to prove himself worthy. The old chairmen notoriously played their favorites, names like Pine, Nogood and Synapse were constantly put in charge of the toughest missions without second thought. It was under their recommendation that one would find the agent paperwork thrust in your face. He never was good at impressing those snotty official types.

So for more years than he cared to count he was a grunt, a minion, what the agents "lovingly" referred to as Eggmen. There was no hope in scaling the ladder, no end in sight to the ghastly labor that was unforgivably forced on him. That is of course until _he _came. It was about eight years ago when a new Eggman joined their ranks, who was around his age. This boy of eighteen had dangerous ideas and a cruel sense of humor, they became friends rather quickly. Steelbeak stopped momentarily to ponder this. Friends? That might not be the accurate term. He shook his head and continued on. They were often given the same mission assignments and he got to see the frightful skill this boy possessed, he was in a word: lethal. He had no intention of giving out his name but told people to call him "Negs". There wasn't an explanation why he wanted to be called Negs, and if anyone pushed the subject they were pushed back… sometimes off a cliff.

It didn't take too long before Negs' impatience with the crummy chain of command got to him. Behind all that force, his deadly proficiency, he also had the diabolical mind of a genius. It came to the point where the Agent in charge of their missions would brief the collected Eggmen and move on to do whatever it was they did in those days. After the "commander" had left Negs would rally them together and tell them exactly what they really should do. At that point he had basically secured his position as Negs' right hand man. They were met with skepticism a first, but Negs' plans never failed. The other Eggmen quickly started taking notice of them. It didn't take too long before they had won over a great deal of followers themselves. It continued on, the agent would give their plan to them and the Eggmen would come to get their real orders from Negs. Times were getting tense, the higher ups were catching on and the Agents had been especially cruel to them. It was in a fit of Agent Synapse's anger that his beak had been broken, it was a horrible reminder of what the organization was capable of. Negs had come and scraped him off the floor that was covered in his own bloody broken person. The cold blue eyes had never shown any signs of comfort or kindness but he had informed him that the organization would be changing, very soon.

Again he called his loyal Eggmen to him and revealed to them his master plan. The plan he admitted he joined F.O.W.L. to perform. He was going to over throw them. He was going to become the head of the organization, and become the kingpin, the boss. The Eggmen eagerly volunteered and like always, his plan didn't fail. The blood that had been spilt was that of those who had oppressed them, who had destroyed him. Negs easily proved to be the deadliest, he sought out the chairmen and dispatched them personally. It didn't take long for Negs to arrange for new Agents to be assigned, he found his name on the top of the list. After a bit of "surgery" he became who he was today the well dressed, suave Agent Steelbeak, it was who he knew he could be. The view from the top was too good to be true in his gray eyes even if he was the second rung down. Negs was not as easily impressed. He rose the then feeble little crime ring into a massive global operation sending his name across the world like a harsh wind. Even though he had been removed from the direct line of combat Negs never lost his focus, his killer instinct that propelled him onward and upward. Steelbeak had witnessed the small misleading looking duck change from Negs into the Boss that everyone feared today.

Long gone were the days of their "friendship", to the Boss everyone was just another worker ant swarming around at his feet. As his power grew the Boss became ever more intimidating and terrifying. It was undeniable when he made Taurus Bulba yield to him that the Eggman once known as Negs was the undisputable, super powerful, crime lord and iron fisted ruler of the modern criminal world.

Steelbeak rubbed the back of his neck as he approached the door of his posh private penthouse apartment. The day had started off normal, until he had to report to the Boss's office. From there it got strange. After it all resolved itself he found himself being scolded relentlessly by the Boss, _verbally_ luckily for him. It was all over that silly water salesman's wife, to boot. He had acquired a rather bad habit of seducing rich married women. They weren't half bad to look at and often showered him with the affection he thought he deserved. He'd string them along wearing down their morals, if they had them, and eventually wooed them into his company. He especially enjoyed it when he had to work hard to get their dedication. After all, everything came so easily being second in command at F.O.W.L. the only real challenge he enjoyed was the difficult theft of a woman's heart. But in the end, after he'd finally grown tired of her he'd get into the poor dame's head and convince her that the only real love in her life was that for her old ball and chain. Felicity was no different. The Boss had never bothered to address his hobbies before this morning. Now he had been firmly threatened to break it off with her _or else_. It was the _or else _that made him feel a bit queasy.

He unlocked the door but froze upon opening it. He had heard something, his hand slowly pulled out his gun. Someone was in his apartment, and just when he thought he'd be able to call it a day. He flung the door open and snapped his gun laden arm up with unprecedented ease. His aim was steady on the curvy shadow before him. With a disgusted sigh he holstered the gun.

"Babe, whaddya doin' here?" He kicked the door shut as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Felicity was before him in a sleek silk negligee, she looked petrified. Most people weren't accustomed to having guns pointed at them he figured. "Sorry about dat angel. I've just had a really bad day."

"I…I didn't know you had a gun." She said regaining her composure slowly.

"In dis city? Honey, everybuddy's gotta gun." He pulled off his shirt suit jacked and threw it on a hook.

"Well I don't." She said frowning.

"No? A fancy lady like yerself ain't gotta cute lil' derringer or nothin'? Tsk tsk… Mr. Flood is askin' for trouble dere."

"Oh please, don't talk about him." She said sadly.

"Right, right sorry doll face." He turned on a floor lamp and saw she was shaking out of the corner of his eye. "What's he done now? Yer shakin' like a newborn inna freezer." He kicked off his shoes.

"He… he's dead."

"Dead?" He laughed. "C'mon I mean it, what'd he hit cha or somethin'?" She had stopped shaking and was looking at him intently.

"I… I killed him. I made it look like an accident… I didn't think I could do it!" She said her excitement growing. "Now we can be together!"

He just stared at her.

"You did… what?"

"Oh darling! I was so scared! I didn't think I would be able to! I had planned on poison but instead I .." She started breathlessly.

"You idiot!" He screamed. "What the hell did ya go an' do a stupid ting like dat for?"

She recoiled at his rage and stared at him wide eyed.

"B…because I love you an…and you love..."

"I don't love you!" He snarled. He put a hand to his head in grim realization. "He's gunna kill me because of you. Because some moron killed her poor sap husband tinkin' I loved her!"

"You don't mean that!" Felicity cried defiantly, tears rolling steadily down her cheeks.

"Oh an' you would know would ya?" He snapped. His mind went into overdrive. "Maybe… maybe he ain't dead… he could still be alive." He started to pace in panic.

"I've already spoken to the officers that found him and I identified his body." She frowned angrily. "I gave a damn good performance, they don't even suspect me, I'm sure of it. He most certainly is dead, he drowned in the water he loved so damn much."

"Don't tell me dat!" He bellowed and raised a hand to strike her. He stayed his assault by the fear in her eyes; instead of the smack he prodded her harshly with his finger. "Lady, ya just made the biggest mistake o' yer life."

"So it would seem, now that I see who you really are. Or is it you who's afraid? All those things you told me, the beautiful words, the gentle kisses, they couldn't have been faked." She went to stroke his face but he slapped her hand aside.

"They were and ya know what? I used dem same lines on all the others and none o' dem bumped off their husbands!" Her eyes glistened with tears, he locked her with his cold glare. A glare he knew had broken men and woman alike, at that moment he would love to torture her as he had them. "Dat's right I said 'others' currently I have four other rich mistresses kissin' my feet! Most o' dem are hotter than you! You just murdered da guy who really loved ya, ya little whore. Tink about it, everyting he did he did it for you! I didn't even know da guy and even I knew dat! An' what did I do for ya? Nothin'. I told ya you looked nice, slept with cha, and took yer money.. oh yeah. I kin see how you'd tink I loved ya!"

"I.. I don't believe you." She sobbed while shaking her head.

"You'd better go before I rough you up. I don't like to hit dames but I can't help it if they deserve it." He grabbed her coat and thrust it at her. "Besides, ya gotta funeral ta plan."

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Darkwing Duck and all related characters are © Disney

Felicity Flood is © moi  
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Ahhh crappy crappy chapter title, apart from that, backstory-o-rama huh? I'll have admit I have the ending of these stories already planned out (which I believe will only be a **four** part series instead of **five**, don't worry it'll be more than enough to occupy you for a while), but I keep feeling drawn to write a prequel of Steelie and Negaduck's rise to power with in F.O.W.L. And I know Dr. Nogood was never in DWD as a F.O.W.L. operative but he was in Ducktales… incidentally that is also where S.H.U.S.H started only it was the D.I.A. If you have a chance, track down the Ducktales episode "Double O Duck" to see the crazy fat and mean J. Gander Hoover. (Yeah it was Hoover not Hooter which is the reason I goofed in Roots of Revenge for most of the story… I'm just too lazy to fix it.) Geeze… me and these random facts for you guys. You should be trivia whizzes by the time I'm done with you.  As usual thanks for being awesome and reviewing! Between you and me I have a feeling story will be getting more updates more frequently since my job is a snooze fest.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

One Roll Away

The radio blared through the large room. The music that was the newest trend spewed from the small box as the two children listened more than a bit distracted. Huey had been fussed over for a few hours until they finally left him alone. He had wanted to talk to Darkwing again but he had managed to sneak away while no one was looking. The song ended and a wave of commercials came over the speaker. An animated voice overacting to the brink of ridiculous started advertising Sparkling Crystal Pure FloodWater with slogans and suspicious sounding statistics.

"He sounds funny."

Huey turned to look at Webby who was his only company at the moment. Louie said he was going to the ice machine but Huey knew he just wanted to be alone. Webby sighed lightly and brought her eyes to his.

"Yeah… I guess he does." Huey agreed.

"So do you believe me now?" She asked.

"About what?" He responded, knowing exactly what she had meant.

"Darkwing Duck is a good guy. I don't know what happened to him but…"

"Uncle Scrooge said something about Magica…" Huey informed her,

"I knew it!" She smiled as she pounded a fist into her open palm. "Fenton didn't believe me but I knew she did this!"

"Webby, why do you think Darkwing helped us? I mean… we've been nothing but horrible to him." Huey tried to hide the guilt in his voice.

"That's easy." She said with a pleasantness that made him raise an eyebrow. "He's a hero. He wouldn't abandon us."

Huey smiled as he let her words sink in.

"When did you get so smart?" He teased.

"Around the same time you got so mean." She smirked. "I think this will all be over soon."

"What makes you think that?" Huey leaned back into the large chair, it was so comfortable it made his eyelids heavy with sleep just sitting in it.

"Well with Darkwing and Gizmoduck working together how could anyone stop them?"

"Ya know…" Huey said as he let his eyes close. "…I think your right."

The cold air of the city bit him harder than he could ever recall. It was digging its arctic fangs into him, making him feel stiff and like his feet would freeze to the pavement. He couldn't see straight, couldn't think straight, he vaguely remembered Felicity trying to kill him. He was oblivious to the world, drawing the trench coat he didn't remember putting on closely to himself. He couldn't make his eyes focus, and despite the chill his breath wasn't visible. All he knew right now, all he wanted at this moment was a stiff drink. He knew the way to Mal's bar, he didn't need his senses for that, he had gotten there in worse shape than this after all. It was late, he didn't know how long he'd been out or even when he woke up. He couldn't grasp any real memory of what had happened. The lights of the bar were still on and he was glad to know he would soon be out of the winter air.

He reached for the door knob and somehow missed it. He just couldn't seem to turn the knob, he couldn't focus. It was like his body wanted to split, wanted to shatter into a million little pieces. What was wrong with him? A rather toasted young man opened the door and walked blindly by him. He stepped into the bar before the door had a chance to close. The heat seemed to thaw him but he still clung to the coat to ward off the lingering frost. Every pair of eyes in the bar were on him. Mal was behind the bar frozen in the act of drying a glass. You'd think they'd never seen him before. He moved to his usual stool trying to ignore the stares and people moving quickly out of his way. Mal blinked slowly and put the glass down.

"You alright friend? You're soaked to the bone."

"I'm not feeling so great…" Answered a strange voice, it sounded like the speaker was underwater. Numbly he realized that it was his voice. His eyes were watering uncontrollably. God, what was wrong with him?

"Ya want me to call you an ambulance?" Mal offered.

"Do I look like I need one?" The gargled voice said with a sure note of confusion.

"To be honest… yeah." Mal was staring at him like he had sprouted antlers.

"Really? The well being of others got you down? Don't delay give them free drinks today!" Bud felt the weird words spill out of him. He felt so strange and he was making a fool of himself.

"No offense, but I think the last thing you need is more liquids… let me call you a.." Mal valiantly started.

"Damn you give me a drink!" He slammed his fist down hard on the bar top and two very crazy things happened.

The first hit him in the face. It was almost as if he had pounded his hand down so hard it had exploded and a chunk had come back to hit him square in the snout. When he looked down he didn't see a hand. What he did see looked like a small mound of water coming out of the end of his sleeve. The mound was resting in a puddle of water that appeared to be shrinking. The water must have been what hit him. The mound was absorbing the puddle and as he watched it regain it's shape he could swear he saw fingers.

The second thing that happened was every single bottle behind the bar leapt off it's shelf and crashed to the ground. Even the taps sprung to life, all of them releasing their contents onto the floor.

The patrons quickly put more distance between themselves and him as all conversation died. Mal stared in horror, backed up against the wall having managed the feat of dodging the alcohol rain. Bud examined the watery hand before him. He lifted it up and felt droplets fall back onto the slick wood. He stared right through it seeing every grain and flaw in the counter like his hand wasn't there at all. He knew he should be afraid, that he ought to be screaming. As he wiggled the liquefied fingers he felt a smile spread across his face. This was wild. He looked up at Malcom who tried to back up even more but was stopped by the wall that was already firmly placed against his back. With his smile intact he redirected his gaze to the rest of his audience, terror was on every face. How interesting. He was becoming used to the wateriness of his eyes and he suspected the condition of his hand was applied to the rest of his body. He didn't need a drink anymore; instead he wanted to see what he could do.

With a bit of concentration he found he could stretch out his legs and loom over anyone in his presence. A woman in the far corner of the bar screamed at his feat and with a minimal amount of strain he extended his arm clear across the room to deliver a wet slap to her face. People were panicking and in hysterics as they tried to get to the door. He laughed as he came to a wonderful realization. No one would use him anymore; no one would laugh at him ever again. He didn't want word of his condition to be spread just yet; he had to figure out a way to keep them in the bar. From behind him he heard a moist "slop" and as he turned to investigate he saw a hill of brownish liquid rising clumsily over the counter. The fluid poured over the side and flowed up beside him, it's swirling insides a mixture of all the colors alcohol had to offer in this day and age. Shards of the broken glass bottles floated around inside the mobile liquor. He blinked at it and wondered if he could get it to block the door.

As if by magic the sickly oozing liquid slid swiftly across the floor and shot up as a barrier between the bar and the only exit. With another bubbly laugh it dawned on him, he could control it. With just a thought he could make it do anything he wanted it to. When someone approached the oozing barrier all the glass shards gathered to where the panic stricken person had planned to make their escape. No one was going to leave here. The days people laughed at Bud Flood were over, he would see to it personally.

Drake was pushed into the cell he had learned to expect in his nightmares. He hadn't been allowed to sleep in recent nights so the sight of it was disturbing as usual but also comforting. When he was here he knew he was asleep, not being manipulated by magic spells, he was just sleeping. It seemed like he hadn't be here in years, even though it was more realistically only about a week. The asylum that swallowed him in his dreams, he knew it was real. It existed in the waking world, but he hadn't been able to determine which one it was. He stood in the dark cell waiting for his gruesome cellmate to appear. He would emerge from the shadows themselves, and lick the thick blood off his hands, just like he always did. After the bizarre ritual he would wake up, or at least he had until half a year ago. Now it seemed his companion was feeling a bit chatty and would start a conversation…. Those were always different. He waited in the grim place silently. Nothing came. He groped around in the shadows only to find himself alone. What did it mean?

A silence fell over the screaming and crying of the other patients beyond his door. The deranged voices all were hushed below a whisper, as if they were controlled by a volume dial. As his pale eyes searched the dark he heard his name.

"Darkwing Duck." Sang the eerily familiar voice from the other side of the door.

Drake felt his heart stop beating. He stared at the door not wanting to admit he heard it. But a faint jingle only confirmed his fears.

"Quackerjack?" He breathed.

The little metal latch they sent the food through on the bottom of the cell door scraped open and the shattered eyes smiled up at him. There was no mistaking or denying those eyes.

"Aha! I found you! Now you're it!" Laughed the milky white eyes.

"You're dead. You can't be here." Drake said more to himself than anything else. Quackerjack, naturally, found this very amusing. The madman's laughter tore through his cell and echoed off the padded walls.

"Oh yeah? Well if I'm dead I can go anywhere I want!" He cackled.

"But you are dead… right?" Drake sat in the darkness the evil eyes following him.

"Why are you always so boring?" Quackerjack sighed. "You couldn't humour me for even a second could you? Noo, you have to go ask me questions and be all calm. I had hoped I'd get a good show out of you yet. I never did get to thank you for impaling me after all…"

"You did that yourself." Drake snapped.

"I guess I did, you just got to take the credit for it… you meanie. Honestly 'Darkwing' how can you call yourself a hero if all your rivals off themselves?" Laughed Quackerjack merrily. "You didn't even prune Bush-Brain by yourself!"

"Bush-Brain?" Drake repeated carefully. He could only think of one possible person this would apply to. "What does Bushroot have to do with anything?"

"Oh you'll have to figure out that riddle on your own you big cheater!" The shattered black pupils scanned the cell and he let out a low whistle. "Nice place you got here… I can see why you so love to lock yourself up at night. Real cozy."

"Shut up."

"You know we all can't snooze away in luxury like this. Take your cellmate for example, no matter how hard you seek you won't find him hiding here."

"What makes you say that chuckles?" Drake stared at those unblinking eyes.

"Because he's out there of course! He's already one roll away from winning the game as you snooze here you, lazy bones. As we speak he's taken the pogo stick by the handles. He's really quite cross with the choice our lady friend has made." Quackerjack stated conversationally.

"What are you talking about?" Drake demanded an answer, why did this ghost of Quackerjack have to be as infuriating as he had been in life?

"Morgana wasn't meant for either of us, you must know that. Why would she have wanted a toymaker gone homicidal maniac apart from a few laughs? Or a self defeating, selfish, hypocrite like you?" His voice held a sneer that made Drake want to kick the door down.

"I don't know why she chose me but she did, and whatever you're trying to pull won't work." He growled shortly.

"What? Did you really expect her to stay with you?" The eyes narrowed to slits in the fit of laughter that followed his statement. "What could you give her? You can barely support yourself and that little girl you strapped to yourself. Oh and the late night patrols are a real romance killer, chief. Don't worry, she's being whisked away as we speak, by the only one who really deserves her."

Drake shot up to his feet.

"What do you mean? Morgana is fine, I know she is!"

There was a rustling as the eyes vanished from the small slit. For a moment there was nothing but jingling as the jester straightened himself out. His face appeared in the small barred window planted near the top of the door. He looked no different than he did before his grizzly death though…. Drake couldn't shake the feeling that he looked… greener. The feathers that were visible from under the mask held an odd twinge of green. The horrible eyes crinkled in a smile.

"You're so sure are you? Here you are snoozing like a baby while not only the woman you love is being taken out from under your big dopey bill but also the little doll you care so much about."

Drake's hands shot through the bars, grasping for the demon's throat. He strained to reach him. his anger flowing through him, his face pressed painfully against the bars. Quackerjack stood just out of his reach, mere centimetres parting the tip of Drake's fingers and his person, sneering. Quackerjack looked into one of the neighbouring cells.

"Pretty accurate memory you've got there 'Drakey'… if this were real Sparky'd be right there giggling himself silly at you." He returned his eyes back to Drake with an unnerving grin on his face. "You think you're mad now? Just you wait ducky, I told you it was just the beginning… the real game is starting… did you remember to real the rules this time?" He let Drake's hands seize him. As he pulled the smiling face close menacingly he spoke again. "Don't worry, we'll let you play hero a little longer… but now it's wakey wakey time."

Drake's eyes flew open and darkness pressed upon them. His throat was parched, his mind racing, and he was sweating. Those evil eyes were burned on his vision, he could see them peering at him on the dark ceiling and before him when he sat up. _It was just a dream,_ he told his racing heart. Quackerjack was dead, there was no way he could have survived that fall, he had seen him die. He dragged a shaking hand through his sweaty hair feathers. Footsteps sounded in the hall and he nervously held his breath. Quackerjack was wrong, Gosalyn and Morgana were safe. The door opened slightly and a curvaceous silhouette slid in to the room. He exhaled gently as Morgana sat on the bed beside him.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" She whispered.

He stared at her. Her silky black hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders with more grace than any scarf. She wore an oversized T shirt but somehow made it look more breathtaking than any evening gown. He remembered she had asked him a question.

"Oh, no. I was just… _there_ again." He sighed. She knew all about his nightmares. She had seen the asylum herself when they once touched. It had shaken her pretty badly as a matter of fact, that was why her response was so strange. It was only brief but a pure look of confusion shone in the emerald eyes he loved. The eyes he suspected had the power to see into his very soul, stood out in the shadow of night with an uncharacteristic hollowness to them. "Morgana are you feeling…" He started but was silenced when she threw her arms around him.

"Oh baby I'm so scared! Please hold me." She breathed.

_Baby_? Had she ever called him that before? Something didn't feel right.

"Drake, hold me tight and never let me go." She sounded on the verge of tears.

What was he doing? He couldn't let some crazy dream tear them apart. Quackerjack was dead and Morgana was here waiting for him to console her, comfort her. He gently wrapped his arms around her.

"What's wrong Morg?" A strange sensation crept over him, like he was sinking into her. She always had a strange effect on him, why did this feeling bother him so much?

"She's out there Drake, plotting, waiting. She's going to find us and we'll be doomed." Morgana shuddered. It was a cold night and she felt like ice in his arms, that was odd too. She was never this cold before.

"Who? Magica? Morg, don't worry about her you're better than she'll ever be… plus you put a barrier around us remember? She'll never be able to find us." He said in what he hoped was an assuring tone. Morgana had been so certain in her spell a while ago, she was convinced Magica would never break it. What had happened to sway her confidence?

"Let's run away." She said barely over a whisper.

"What?" He laughed. The sinking feeling was intensifying, the dark seemed to saturate around him and he had to fight off the wave of sleep that threatened to seize him.

"Let's run, get far away from here. Just you and me. We can get married and live a happy normal life far away from this madness." She spoke sweetly, the darkness pressing in all around him made him feel like he'd be sucked into her, like he was being pulled away by the tide. This felt horribly familiar.

"I…I don't t..think…" He stammered trying to pull away from her. She latched onto him tighter.

"Think about it, we could be so happy… lets go now before she finds us!"

His mind started to haze over, this wasn't right. Did she really mean to leave Gosalyn here? He tried to ask her this but his mouth had stopped paying attention to his brain. He felt like he was going to collapse. He had to stay awake. Absently he reached for the only thing that had comforted him in the cold nights before this whole mess started. She was speaking at length of how they would escape and live a romantic, free life when his fingers reached around his throat to find nothing. It was gone? He regained himself a bit as his fingers desperately searched for the gold chain.

"Morgana!" He croaked. Why was it so hard to speak? "The crest it's gone!"

"What crest?" She asked in annoyance.

The cold that surrounded him, the darkness trying to swallow him whole, the complete lack of her enchanting touch, all suddenly made sense.

"He was right!" Drake growled as he violently shoved her away with all the strength he could muster. Morgana caught herself on the footboard, halting her fall to the floor, she gawked at him. He stumbled drunkenly away from the bed putting as much distance between them as possible.

"What are you talking about?" She asked angrily.

"Morgana would never be afraid of a little talent less leech like you!" He snarled. "She could crush you with a wave of her pinky finger!"

The hollow eyes suddenly flared with anger. He laughed as he tried to push away the swirling sickness that fought to claim him again.

"You're nothing compared to her! You're like… a goblin trying to pass itself off as a queen, drop the disguise you do her no justice!"

"You should stop talking now darlink." Glared the false Morgana, her voice losing its seductive tone to be replaced with the witch's thick accent. "Let the magic take you. Surrender to my spell again Darkwing. There you can dream all the time, you can escape the pain that waits for you on the other side of that door. In the world I have made for you, you can be with her, with out fear and raise the little girl together, maybe even have a child of your own."

Her words were like poison settling in around his brain numbing his senses and bidding him to surrender. Like a serpent she sat hissing temptations at him, all he ever wished for was his if he only let the fight leave him. His heart was the only thing not dulled by her voice, it pounded and was suddenly the only thing he could hear. The spell was consuming him.

_Get out. _

A voice? In between the painful beats he heard it, quiet and frail but a voice he knew.

**I can't. She's got me.** He thought.

_You can't give in Dark darling… I need you, Gosalyn needs you._

**It's no use, I can't fight it. She's too strong… I failed you both.**

_DRAKE MALLARD! I will never forgive you if you don't stop her! You can beat her! Just get out of the house, he's out there! He can help you! Please dearest… they're going to kill Gosalyn and the boy._

Drake's mind recalled the devilish doppelganger. It was him. He did this. He was the master mind wasn't he? He knew it was true. Now he had the girls… what was he doing? He couldn't lie down and die yet! He fought the blackness away from his eyes and Magica appeared before him, gloating. She slid a hand gently under his bill, she hadn't noticed his struggle.

"What a splendid puppet you will be my darlink. We will have so much fun together…" She smiled.

Before she could catch on he gathered his wits and kicked her as hard as he could in the stomach. All the magic that had clouded his mind vanished as she fell over gasping on the floor.

_Go now! _Cried Morgana's voice in his head and he obeyed.

He threw the door open and was stunned to see what awaited him. The house was destroyed. Everything was shattered or broken, giant holes had been smashed in the walls, and not an inch of the floor was free from the debris. He heard Magica regaining herself behind him and he ran toward the stairs. Gosalyn's door was ripped violently off it's hinges and was lying on the floor covered in her tattered belongings. He swallowed hard at the sight of it, how could this have happened again? Toys were shredded, mirrors were shattered, the room was in a complete state of chaos. He had to find her, had to find Morgana, had to find them both before it was too late. Magica scrambled into the hall.

"Trying to run away are you darlink?" She roared. "What a brave one you are!" There was a crackle of electricity and blue bolts caressed her fingers. She raised her aim to him. "Stand still now..." She laughed.

He hopped over the banister and landed on the cluttered stair case. Dust kicked up from what had once been pieces of his house and he coughed fiercely. He shot his gaze upward as Magica prepared to unleash her attack on him. He moved to run down the stairs but caught his foot on a bit of debris and crashed down them as the shock was released. He glanced back as he scrambled to his feet and saw the scorched step he had been on. He was almost to the door, he was only feet away. He heard her shriek in rage as she prepared another spell. He bolted to the door and flung it open. Dazed, he stared into a pair of brown eyes. The duck at his door was about his height and wearing a dark purple suit, he looked as if he was about to knock on the now open door. Drake's mind caught up with him.

"Fenton? What are you doing here?" He said looking as confused as the accountant did.

"Well I just wanted to..."

What Fenton had meant to do would remain unsaid as Magica appeared at the top of the stairs steading her aim. Drake slammed the door shut and grabbed Fenton's bicep as he began to run away from the house.

"Was that just..?" Fenton spluttered as Drake dragged him along.

"Yes!"

"How did she know where..."

"I don't know but we've got to get out of here."

The front door exploded off the house and landed, smoking, on the front lawn. Drake turned to see the short woman step out onto the front porch with a burning look of hatred lighting up her face. Bright green auras emitted from her hands and illuminated her with an eerie effect. He felt violently ill and had to gag down his own vomit. It felt like a hundred snakes were writhing around in his stomach. He felt the color drain from him as he fell to his knees, it was no use. No matter how hard he tried she always caught up to him. He couldn't beat her. Fenton frowned at him in thought as he fought to keep the contents of his stomach where they belonged. It was as Drake's mind searched for a plan that Fenton walked out of his weak grip. The young duck put himself between Drake and the witch and started to walk slowly toward her. She chortled loudly.

"Ah eef eet eesn't Mr. Crackshell! I didn't expect to see you here, did you finally use that little mound of grey matter that rattles around in your skull? Do you understand what is going on or do I have to explain eet to you?' She cackled.

"You had me fooled for a while there grandma, but not anymore. It's time we settle this once and for all." Fenton stopped his advance with only a few feet parting them.

"Do you plan to talk me to death you imbecile? Or did you not realise you forgot your little outfit?" The magic licked her arms like flames.

"You sound so sure of that you nasty old wind bag. Do you really want to go the way of your crispy raven friend? Because I can accommodate that easily."

There was a pure look of hesitation on the woman's rage filled face. It was as the two ducks stared each other down when a sound Drake had come to dread rang through the night. The opening of a door.

"Well what in sam hill is goin' on out here? Cuz' I'll be battered in butter if I can get a lick of sleep with all this racket!" Laughed a jolly voice from the darkened stoop of the neighbour's house.

The intrusion seemed to make up Magica's mind. There was a flare of purple flame and what had been a woman suddenly was a flock of bats that quickly flapped away. Drake felt the evil magic leave with her and swallowed the last bit of his sickness as his mind cleared.

"Wowwie Drakester! Ya got fire works over there or somethin'?" Bellowed the voice of Herb from across the lawn.

He wished he had the option of transforming to escape the Muddlefoots as Magica had. Perhaps she left because she couldn't bare to be around true terror.

"Yeah Herb, fireworks. We're all done now... sorry to keep you up." He shouted back.

"Oh now, not a problem Drakearoonie! Just keep it down next time!" Herb's voice seemed to carry throughout the entire street. Drake couldn't help but think that he made more noise than anything that had happened here tonight. There was a loud slam as Herb went blissfully ignorant back to his warm bed.

Drake breathed in the cold night air as the last of her magic wore off. Fenton offered him a hand to help him back to his feet. The hand he grasped was stronger than he had expected . Soon he was on his feet and met the brown eyes he had last seen consumed with rage. They now just fixed him with a pensiveness that Drake was sure his own eyes reciprocated.

"That was a close one huh?" Fenton said as he rubbed the back of his neck absently.

"What do you mean by that? You have your suit you could have stopped her for good!" Drake snapped a lot harsher than he intended. Fenton put on a sheepish grin.

"Actually... the Gizmosuit is still in the city, I was just bluffing. Lucky for us she bought it huh?"

Drake eyed him. Maybe this guy wasn't as predictable as he looked.

"That was pretty reckless of you."

"You must be contagious." Fenton smirked. "What did she want anyway?"

"She got what she wanted... and if I'm not mistaken you'll find out they've taken something from you too. We've got to hurry. There isn't much time." Drake moved quickly along the silent lawn.

"What are you talking about? Where are you going?" Fenton shouted after him.

Drake pulled open the garage door, it looked like they didn't have the time to destroy what was in there. He started to wheel his motorcycle out to the driveway when Fenton's phone began to sing shrilly. He only half listened to the panicked conversation as he closed his eyes with a deep breath, the cold air stinging his lungs. When he opened his eyes again Fenton was staring at him suspiciously as McDuck could be heard screaming into the receiver.

"Which one did they get?" Drake asked as he mounted the bike.

"Louie." Fenton kept his wary eye on him.

"They've got my daughter and my girlfriend. I don't plan on sitting back and waiting for you guys to come up with a plan." He had to concentrate hard but he could feel her. Like an internal compass he could sense Morgana faintly. If he could follow it he was sure he'd find Gosalyn, Morgana, Louie, Magica, and his tormentor.

"Do you know where they went?" Fenton asked as he hung up on the quadrillionare mid rant.

"No, but I'm going to find out."

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

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Herb Muddlefoot to the rescue! X3 And here we go on to the long ass stand off. There will be no rest for the likes of our heroes. And I'll bet you didn't expect Quacky to keep Drake company did you? Hehe. Twists ahoy!


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

No Salvation

Felicity sat in the dark staring at the glimmering city out side the elegantly large window from what had been _their_ bedroom. The rich leather chair that held her was soft and warmed by her presence; she was surprised she still had warmth. She had come home to the penthouse hours ago, stood in the doorway of Bud's empty study and finally helped herself to his "hidden" bottle of whiskey. She hated whiskey, it burned her throat and she had to fight the gag reflex that tried to regurgitate the harsh liquid, but it made her numb. She wanted to be numb; she held the bottle in her lap as she watched the skyline through her raw eyes. She had cried her tears, cried more than she ever thought she could and though the silence of the apartment still saddened her there was just nothing left to cry. Headlights twinkled on the streets far below and the haze of the city's lamps seemed as distant as dreams. Though she had sobbed like a child, though she knew what she'd become, what she'd done, it still hadn't sunk in completely. She had killed her husband for a lover who never truly wanted her. The room still held the ghost of his scent. She could smell the expensive cologne she had bought for him last Christmas; he wore it every day. Now that he was gone, she could see how blind she was.

Steelbeak was right, she had killed the only man who had loved her more than anything else. The only person who cared about her so deeply, so completely that he devoted every waking moment to a career he hated so she could go on being frivolous and rich. Even when she had been so cruel to him, when he knew she was having an affair, he still loved her. He tried to make things right, brought himself to banish his anger, and how did she reward him? She took another shuddering gulp. She murdered him. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking, they had started when she left Steelbeak, and only worsened when Bud's voice came on a radio commercial as she drove home. He hated doing those commercials, but you wouldn't know it from how pleased and greasy his voice sounded. His voice was made for those advertisements, she shook her head miserably. How did she become this monster? What was she going to do? Could she live with the guilt? Would the police see through her lies?

Maybe she could run away, start again and become someone new. She wasn't a pup any more. She was a middle aged and emotionally demented woman with blood on her hands, what kind of life could she lead? No, there was escape for her. She had made her bed, now she had to sleep in it. She sniffled loudly.

"Honey I'm home!" Proclaimed a voice from behind her.

It was an eerie gargled voice and she sat frozen in fear at the very sound of it. It was a terrifying voice, yet held a familiarity in it that made it all the more petrifying. There was a swish and she felt the person move toward her. Something cold and wet dripped onto her snout and she clamped her eyes shut. She had to be hallucinating, Buddy was gone and there was no such thing as ghosts.

"Don't you want to see what you've done to me?" Said the aquatic voice by her ear.

"Y..you're dead…" She choked. "I saw your body down at the morgue a few hours ago. You can't be here."

"So that's where it went. I close my eyes for a few hours and my body up and leaves." He said pleasantly. "Luckily I upgraded to the new model! Available for a limited time only! A Felicity Flood exclusive! I suppose I ought to thank you…"

There it was, the voice, the commercial voice. She could resist no longer and she opened her eyes. Horrified she stared at and through a large collection of water, it was in the unmistakable form of Bud. He was clear, completely see through and the thought alone almost made her faint. Instead, she leaned into the far corner of the chair and found her mouth forming words.

"W..What are you?"

"A state of the art miracle of modern science! The ninth wonder of the world!" He shook his watery head, it looked like he couldn't control those out bursts. He continued with out the sing song tone. "I am an amorphous liquid. I can be whatever I want, for the first time in my life." The impossible face in front of her smiled.

"B…but how? What…?"

"I was given another chance when you tried to kill me…tried to dispose of me, rub me out, put me out of business, liquidate me!" He laughed. "Now it's my turn to play Liquidator dearest."

"B…Buddy, I am so so sorry… I … I…"

"Too little too late Widow Flood. The coroner will ask how, ask now when he hears the lovely widow was dead on her bedroom floor, drowned. 4 out of 5 police men suspect she had what was coming to her."

She felt her heart race with panic and she threw the bottle at the face before her. It passed through him with out so much as a bat of his liquid eyes. She scrambled out of the chair and felt the water under her bare feet. He contorted before her, stretching himself out tall and even more intimidating. She couldn't scream, terror had ripped her voice away. She made a mad dash for the door but a puddle came up from behind her and slipped her. The world seemed to slow to a crawl as she felt her self fall backwards. This was a nightmare. She would wake up any minute now in the chair, the whiskey was responsible for this maddening dream. She watched the room fall around her waiting for her salvation to come. She heard the gargled laugh again, this was real. She was not going to be saved, just like no one saved him. Her head hit the floor hard and she lost consciousness.

Gosalyn blinked herself awake. The bitter cold stung her bare legs and her head still hurt from where she had been hit. She shivered as she looked around. She was on a rooftop, one that looked unsettlingly like the one she had been on when her Grandfather died. It was almost exactly the same, it made her throat tighten just to look at it. She was sitting in the middle of this eerie local in her nightshirt, the freezing air scraping around her. There was an entrance to a stair well in the far corner of the roof, and the surrounding buildings fell short of this one giving her a skyscraper's view of St. Canard. She pulled her legs up and hugged them to hold onto her fading warmth. What was going on? Why was she here? She barely remembered her dad, dressed as Darkwing coming into her room and then…. She felt a bloody lump on her head. What was wrong with him? Was that witch Morgana mentioned controlling him again?

"You must be cold." Said a familiar voice behind her.

She shifted and saw the boy she had punched in the face. He looked pretty bad, like he had the stuffing knocked out of him. He gave her a weak smile.

"Louie? What happened?"

"I'm afraid we're being used as bait Gosalyn." He said sadly.

"Bait? By who?" She shivered, trying in vain to look warm. The last thing she wanted was to have him make fun of her and laugh at her again.

"Well Magica DeSpell for one, and some guy who looks an awful lot like your dad."

"My dad?" She repeated harshly.

"I know he's Darkwing, and I also know he's not..." He seemed to be struggling with his words. "He's not bad. I was wrong Gosalyn, and I guess I deserved that beating…"

"That's right you did! I'll slug you even worse if you ever talk about him that way again." She tried to sound braver than she felt. Being on a replica of that building made her overwhelmingly anxious. She attempted to quiet the chattering of her teeth. He eyed her and after a bit of hesitation slid up next to her and put his arms around her.

"What…!" She started angrily.

"It will help keep you warm." He interrupted her firmly. Though he sounded business like she could swear he was blushing. It was embarrassing but she couldn't deny that she felt warmer. Being so close to him she could see how he'd been pummeled. There were dry patches of blood splattered on his face and a few cuts still bled. It was easy to predict where bruises were going to form.

"Did… 'evil dad' do this to you?" She asked softly afraid the man in question would overhear her. Louie's silence was answer enough. "What do they want with us?"

"Magica is after my Uncle Scrooge's coin, I'm pretty sure but… I think the other Darkwing is after your dad."

"Why?"

He sighed miserably, she knew he didn't really know. She didn't expect him to, it was just natural for her to ask questions. His breath ruffled her bangs, if she wasn't so cold she wouldn't have let that happen. She prayed no one ever knew about this… Honker would never let her hear the end of it. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about that, she told herself. They were in real trouble and it was only a matter of time until Drake fell into this trap.

"Where are they?" She asked.

"They left a while ago. I think they went to give their demands… I'm not sure though. There is a guard stationed on the other side of the stairwell door. We're stuck here."

"I'm not just going to sit here and wait for them to jump my dad! We've gotta do something! Try to get away!" She attempted to stand but he held her tight.

"Gosalyn no." He hissed. "I've tried that already and look at what they did to me!" His battered face looked downright painful. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I can take care of myself. I don't need you to treat me like I'm some stupid little girl!" She struggled but his grip didn't fail. Didn't he know that they'd hurt them anyway? Why did he feel like he had to 'protect' her. She didn't need it. Her temper flared. "I am not Webbigail!" She fumed.

"I know you're not!" He shouted as he held her down.

"Than stop treating me like I am!" She squirmed madly. "Let me at least try! I might do it!" She strained against his arms. Her head swam with the stories she had read, the sticky situations the McDuck boys had been in, he must understand why she wanted to try. "If I was Huey or Dewey you would let me!"

There was a moment of silence. She wondered if saying his departed brother's name would result in him releasing her but she found herself wrapped up in a hug. She felt the fight leave her as shock settled in.

"You aren't Webby, Huey, or Dewey… you're Gosalyn and I would never forgive myself if I let you get hurt." He sounded like he was about to cry. She didn't know what to do. Hesitantly she gave him a light pat on the back and he tightened the hug. That wasn't the response she was going for.

"You've got to understand…. He's all I've got." She whispered.

"Now look at this, there is nothing sweeter than young love…" Came a voice she knew but harsher and crueler than she had ever heard it. "I feel like I might vomit."

She looked up at him. Darkwing was striding toward them scowling, a cigar resting in his bill.

"Dad?" She breathed.

"Don't be fooled Gosalyn that guy isn't your father." Louie said his hug failing as he turned to glare at the caped figure.

"Gosalyn don't listen to him. What does he know anyway? He's a spoiled little brat who's too stubborn for his own good. Now come on, I'm here to save you." Said the smoking Darkwing sounding a bit more like Drake.

Louie must have seen the confusion in her eyes because he shook her back to her senses.

"Remember how you got here! He's not who he's pretending to be!"

When she looked back at Darkwing he was standing a few feet away from them. A small group of men came out of the stairwell and began to close in behind him. A face in the lineup made her feel sick with fear and rage. It was him. No mistaking it. Standing right in front of her was the rooster who had killed her grandfather. The cold grey eyes hung on her thoughtfully a sneer lingering on the metal mouth. There was no stopping her now as she pulled out of Louie's grip.

"You!" She heard herself shriek and bolted toward him.

She wanted to hit him, wanted to knock that smile off his face, she wanted to make him feel the pain he'd given her, she wanted to kill him. Everything else seemed to disappear she felt nothing but her burning desire for vengeance. She had been haunted by how casually he had destroyed her life. How easily he had taken away the only family she had left, took him away after all she had gone through to save him. After all Darkwing had suffered to help her. She would make him pay. Or that's what she had wanted, instead a strong hand caught her by the throat and she was thrown harshly to the ground. She clutched her aching head as she heard Louie's voice, her head hurt too much to make out what he said, but it was angry. Her eyes were tearing and even though the hand was gone she had to fight to breath. There was a loud crack immediately followed by cruel laughter.

"Remember your place boy!" Snarled the dark voice that was so like Drake's. She felt the strong hand grab her by the arm. "Now Princess, you can't go around yelling at Daddie's friends, after all, a lady is better seen and not heard."

She forced the tears away and tried to shake the imposter off her. Where was Drake? He had to come, he had to save them. The man before her was his spitting image, but these eyes lacked his warmth. Whoever this Darkwing was, he was soulless and evil.

"Leave me alone." She growled.

He smiled and forced her to her feet. He held her still and inspected her with a wry smile.

"You are quite a piece of work Ms. Waddlemeyer. It's a shame he found you first, I have a feeling we would have gotten along much better than you two do." He said dryly.

"I'd never get along with a slimy toad like you! And my name is Mallard!" She snapped.

"Well it is now, but I won't hold that against you. You do know that's not his real name, am I right? I know I am. I asked my good friend Quackerjack to tell you all about that when I had him kidnap you."

She fought the urge to shudder. The demented jester had told her a lot of things when he had her. He told her more than she ever wanted to know. Told her if she told anyone he'd come back and get her. The harsh wind scoured her legs and stung her lungs. She could see Louie lying motionless on the floor beside her.

"I tink she's scared Boss." Laughed Steelbeak.

If looks could kill Gosalyn's would have maimed him in the most gruesome way imaginable. A frozen hand slowly turned her face back to the near face of the shameful impersonator. His hand reflected the artic air he held in his eyes.

"Are you?" He asked in his deep gravelly voice.

She didn't know why she did it, she didn't even think about doing it but, at times like this her fist seemed to have a mind of it's own. It swung in a steady arch striking Darkwing harshly across the face. The renegade fist screamed in pain and his grip on her faltered as he stumbled backwards dazed. Gosalyn heard the suited henchman voice their rage as she ran to Louie and desperately tried to rouse him. He weighed a ton and wouldn't wake up.

"Why you little...!" Fumed Steelbeak, pulling his gun, the gun he had used on her Grandfather and took aim.

A horrible laugh stayed Steelbeak's trigger finger and Gosalyn's retreat. Darkwing threw his head back in laughter and the heartless eyes fixed on her again. She couldn't act anymore and her fear took hold of her. She ran frantically toward the stair well. Where was he? Drake had never abandoned her when she needed him. What if they had killed him? What were they going to do to her? The words drowning her brain stopped abruptly as a leathery wing slapped her in the face. She barely had time to scream when a hundred more bats swarmed her. Screeching and flapping surrounded her as she covered her face with her arms. As sudden as they came the bats were gone and a hot grip seized her.

"So, this ees the little girl he cares so much about. How unlucky for you darlink."

Gosalyn removed her arms from her face and saw the wicked woman holding her. She tried to break out of her grasp but the woman barely seemed to notice. "Relax little one," She cooed through her thick accent. The woman's eyes rose above Gosalyn's head. "He ees coming."

"Excellent work Ms. DeSpell." Came the dark voice from behind her, closer than she expected.

"Hardly, he has that over dressed oaf with him." Magica scowled.

"Gizmoduck huh?" A cold hand fell on Gosalyn's shoulder. "Well, we will just have to throw them quite a welcome. But we'll need some quiet to prepare" His grip tightened. "Perhaps you have something to help Ms. '_Mallard_' calm down?"

Gosalyn's heart sank as the witch smiled. There was a tingling where Magica's hands held her and she felt all the strength leave her.

"I think you should take a little nap darlink, we will wake you when he comes."

Gosalyn tried to fight off her spell but her vision blurred. "_Darkwing_"'s harsh voice spoke again, but sounded miles away.

"Yes, we wouldn't want you to miss out on his last words."

Everything went black and silent.

Morgana focused on her breathing. The room she was in was dark in both lighting and aura, it caused her agony liked she'd never known. Her head split in pain, her body felt heavy and like every inch of her had been scorched by the hottest flame. The bed she had been placed on was a deep blood red and the room that housed it was painted dark. The hopelessness of this place was only intensified by the unnatural cold that hung in the air. She closed her eyes and kept her focus on her shaky breath. She couldn't remember how she had gotten here, or even where _here_ was. She remembered getting the near comatose with exhaustion Drake to bed, sitting up with Gosalyn for a while until she sent the child off to sleep, then spending more time with the ghost of the boy named Dewey. He'd been telling her quite a lot about her opponent since she'd seen him the first time. About their intertwined past and how cruel she was. He was telling her something about a coin and then her memory went black. She kept her eyes closed; she had to fight to stay conscious. It felt like all the magic she had been blessed with had been violently torn out of her. It seemed like ages ago that she knew where Drake was. Whatever was causing this pain was not as strong then, she had delivered him from Magica and lost him. She tried to roll onto her side but felt the searing pain ravish her. She choked back a scream; she was going to die here. This wasn't magic, there wasn't a spell that could destroy her like this. The little warmth she had suddenly flushed out of her and breathing was more painful than inhaling glass shards.

"You're stunning when you're in pain." Said someone above her.

Her eyes fluttered open and took in the sight of Darkwing staring down at her. There was a terrible black aura around him but her heart rose at the very sight of him.

"D..Drake?" She feebly breathed. The blue eyes flashed angrily and her pain tripled.

"No. I'm not that little coward and you'd do yourself a world of good if you remembered that. You're mine now and you be glad for it." Announced the deep voice that could have been Drake's.

"What have you done to me?"

A wicked smile spread across his face. Even though he was a carbon copy of the one she loved, when he smiled like that it was clear he was not the same person. He sat beside her.

"I haven't done anything but exist. I find it quite flattering that you're so weak in my presence my dear."

"Who are you?"

"Who am I? That's a complicated answer, you've known me by so many names. We've been together in a great number of our past lives…." She felt her stomach ice over as she recalled what she had told Drake when they met a second time. This man seemed to follow her thoughts because his grin twisted wider. "That's right, I remember what _he_ doesn't. I remember how lovely you always were in all your incarnations, and naturally how radiant you were when I squeezed the last breath of life out of you on a number of occasions. Strangling was always my favorite fate for you my dear," His frozen fingers brushed her neck, "but the other demises were equally intoxicating. You see, I am the one who you longed to find, not him. I am the man you fell in love with time and time again. Only this time I am rid of my weakness and I intend to have you again."

Morgana could barely think, she had felt his words. He was right; he was the one she'd known, the one she loved. It was terrifying, it was true, but it was altogether wrong. She loved Drake, he made her stronger, made her heart dance, this man only brought her pain. But above all this she felt something horrifying. This Darkwing was comprised almost entirely of Negatrons, he was like a black hole sucking away the very essence of her being. He was so frighteningly familiar, they had spent past lives together, often killed each other. She told Drake that there was always a darkness, an overwhelming evil that consumed him in those lives. This man, was it. There was no denying it.

"Where am I?" She tried in vain to sound commanding and intimidating.

"You are with me in one of my many business buildings littered across my city." He sneered.

"What have you done with Gosalyn?"

"Oh she's fine, she's just hanging around on the roof. I wouldn't worry about her, there's nothing you can do to help her anyway."

"Where is Drake?"

He glared at her.

"He's not going to save you. You put your money on the wrong pony. I won't hold that against you, after all we're almost identical. But…" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold necklace she recognized all too well. The golden crest emblazoned with bats, spiders, and an M hung on the fine gold chain. "… I think you should hang onto your precious jewelry." He dropped the necklace onto her stomach.

"Where did you get that… I gave it to…"

"_Him_ yes I know. That's where I got it. He didn't even notice it was gone until today… really. What do you see in him? He's a complete knob."

"He's more than you could ever be." She snarled painfully. He laughed in response.

"More of an idiot I suppose, well, I'd love to stay and chat but I have a couple heroes to kill. Don't go anywhere, I'll be back later."

With a smirk he leaned down to her and kissed her. The effect was maddening. She felt as though her head would explode, so many images and memories flashed in her mind's eye: Blood, screaming, gunshots, laughing, torture, people being killed in the most horrible ways. As his gleeful atrocities bombarded her from his own point of view she was confronted with a face she knew. A face she had found in Drake's memory. A man with cool blue eyes was standing in a large study as he looked down into her eyes fear filled his features. A knife cut through the air and landed repeatedly in his chest as he slumped away in the cold grip of death. The man vanished and another familiar face greeted her with a scream as the same knife slit her throat. She wished she could close her eyes, that she could scream too, but the knife pierced the woman's still heart with a child like cackle. The visions vanished as the monster moved away from her. The screams still tore apart her head and tears were streaming down her face.

"I'll be back before you know it Morgana, don't cry." Came the smug evil voice over the lingering shrieks.

She felt like she was going to die, her heart was breaking, her body giving out on her. The horrors she had witnessed eating her from the inside. She felt the man dressed as Darkwing stand, there was no hope left in her. What was going to become of her? Just when she agreed to succumb to her agony induced surrender something tugged at the pieces of her heart bonding them back together. A small tingle of warmth ran through her and the pain of breathing was lessened ever so slightly. She exhaled with ease as she let her heart heal… he was coming. Drake was getting closer. The cruel eyes watching her held a murderous glint in them.

"Yes, he's coming… a lot faster than I thought he would. Don't get too optimistic, I'm going to destroy him once and for all." With a flair of his cape he stalked out of the room.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on his gentle light. It wasn't bleak and hopeless anymore, he was alive and coming for them. If anyone could set this mess right, it was him.

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

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Consider this a deep breath before a plunge into icy waters. I read somewhere that the reason the Liquidator wasn't in too many Darkwing Duck episodes was because the scriptwriters found the task of writing his dialogue too hard… I sympathize. Holy Toledo, I've got my work cut out for me. Licky won't see real dynamic action until next story, but he's still in this one again for a little snippet. And if you haven't figured out my little plot twist regarding how this whole story comes together… wow I'm a better writer than I thought. Let's just say Duncan Glomgold is very important. And woo hoo for 100+ reviews! I am so flattered!


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Nothing Left

Drake's heart was racing but he could barely hear it over the anger that consumed him. He swerved the ratcather in and out of traffic at high-speed. How could he have let this happen... again! Twice his home was raided and twice people he cared about were the victims. Quackerjack had damn near killed Launchpad and had taken Gosalyn, this time the two girls he loved more than anything were taken out from right underneath him. How did he sleep through that? Magic or not, it was his fault for not being there. How could he have been so stupid? He weaved in between headlights and tail lights still oblivious to his frantic heartbeat; he wished he could say the same about the racket that followed him.

Gizmoduck loudly apologized giving a warning on a loudspeaker, conveniently located around the throat of his suit, as a police light flashed on the top of his helmet. He was finding it difficult to keep up with the determined Darkwing. More than a few times he had crashed into a stopped car or a street sign trying not to loose sight of him. Mr. McDuck would never forgive him if something happened to Louie. The motorcycle squealed around a corner with out warning, he almost toppled over in pursuit as angry honking erupted. He shouted an "excuse me citizen" into his apparatus and saw Darkwing turn down another road a few blocks up. He sped after him, he was still rather torn on what to think of the vigilante. Part of him shunned the shifty, mysterious, and arrogant way he presented himself, acting above the law was something Fenton could never bring himself to do. After all, the law was the law, and the police were there for upholding the law, and the law was there to protect them, and he was there to protect the police and the law. His head swam with his own confusing logic. But on the other hand, Darkwing stood for what he believed, he was morally stable enough to set himself apart from what others said was wrong and right. On top of all this he couldn't shake the impression he got from the first time he had met the masked mallard. No armor, no extensive mechanical arsenal, no endless supply of gadgetry, he used his brain and his brawn to accomplish his goals. There was nothing but a few yards of black fabric between him and potential death. Fenton couldn't help but feel inferior.

He wanted to shake the nagging uncertainty but it only grew the more he thought about it, the more time he spent with Darkwing. Without Gyro's invention he was a lousy accountant with a good eye for numbers. If they switched places Fenton feared he wouldn't last one night in his shoes. He felt like he was cheating, like he had used the suit to become something, and someone he never had any business pretending to be. His self torment was ended when the receiver in his helmet picked up a transmission.

"Gizma'duck the fiends have just made their demands." Said the anxious Scottish voice.

"What do they want Mr. McDuck?"

"Tha' same as before, me dime an' a check for tha' old goblin Glomgold. Ah dinnet undastand it. They want so little and take me nephew…"

"I will get him back to you safely sir, I swear it."

"Dinnet go an' do anythin' to put him in any danger Crackshell or bust me bagpipes ah'll…."

"Pardon me sir, but I think it highly unlikely that he could possibly get into any more danger than he already has. I just need you to tell me what's going on."

"Tha' message was clear. They want Launchpad te deliver tha' ransom."

"McQuack? What did he say?"

"He agreed of course, ah haven't' let him go yet. Ah wanted to yoor current situation first."

Gizmoduck was finding keeping up with Darkwing to be entirely exhausting.

"Well Darkwing seems to have some idea of where he's going but, I don't know…" He almost wiped out as Darkwing made another sharp turn for him to follow at the last minute. You'd think this was a game of cops and robbers the way he was tailing him. "Did they give you a location with the demands?"

"Aye. It looks like they're hidin' oot here in the city…"

Gizmoduck almost plowed over Darkwing who had gotten off his motorcycle.

"Watch where you're going you rust bucket!" Snapped the surly duck. The voice in Fenton's ear continued.

"..They're in a sky scraper that looks just like all the others… no markings, with out directions or an address ye'd never find it."

Gizmoduck looked down at Darkwing who was scowling up at the building he had stopped in front of. He glanced at the tall structure and felt the inferiority emerge once again.

"Ye need directions lad? Tired of tha' goose chase Darkwing's got ya on?" Said Scrooge.

"Uh.. no, Mr. McDuck we're there I believe." Giz sighed. Darkwing's cool eyes slid onto him and he impatiently crossed his arms.

"There isn't time for this. We've got to hurry." Darkwing's voice was dulled by the astonished questions of the disembodied voice in Fenton's helmet. Darkwing was right. There was no time left. He disconnected Scrooge and looked up at the building.

"So what's the plan?"

"I'm not sure yet…. But I'm counting on you to get the kids to safety. I have a feeling I'll have my hands full."

"Any idea where to start looking? This thing is huge…. Eighty three floors are too much for two people to search."

"Eighty three?" Darkwing took him in with a perplexed blink. "How do you know that? Did your visor tell you?"

"Ah, no. I counted."

"…counted. Just now?" He questioned skeptically.

"Yeah I'm pretty good at that… I used to be a bean counter…" He admitted feeling the embarrassment building up in side him like a tempest.

"Betcha' that's useful."

"Sometimes… not often though."

"Anyway, they're toward the top. I think we'd have better luck starting at the roof…" Darkwing squinted at the distant target.

"And 'how do you know that'?" Gizmo asked smugly, pleased he had the chance to use the same tactic on the vigilante.

"Call it a hunch." Darkwing coolly replied.

"Betcha' that's useful."

"You have no idea." Darkwing smiled.

Gosalyn was suddenly aware of how cold she was as consciousness returned to her. Her throat was dry and her head still heavy with the induced sleep. She tried to move but found she had been tied tightly to something. She attempted to open her eyes but a blind fold held her lids shut. It was quiet. Had it already happened? Had Gizmoduck and her dad come? Did they fail? Were they still fighting? She heard a groan a few feet away and instantly knew it's owner.

"Louie! Are you okay? What's going on?"

She didn't receive an answer. A far away strange noise filled the freezing air, growing steadily louder. She thought it sounded a bit like a helicopter, her heart leapt as her mind worked out what this meant. The sound rose to a din and she heard a set of feet running in her direction, only above her.

"Dad?" She cried.

There was a clatter and the object she was bound to shook as a heavy body came to rest on it. She was dying for an answer, was it him or the bad one just messing with her again?

"Dad?" She repeated hopefully.

"Gosalyn… don't move." Came a hushed voice behind her. She was so disorientated… what was going on?

"Careful now Wingy…" Coached the unmistakable voice of Gizmoduck far above her. She felt like she was going to explode into joy and tears.

"Dad! It is you! I'm so…" She tried to get her hands to her face so she could see him.

"Gosalyn… please… don't move." He sounded thoroughly fearful.

She felt his hands work out the bonds that held her by the ankles. To her surprise she felt gravity take them and bring them to a swinging rest in front of her. She was hanging over something… she felt panic wash over her.

"Dad..." She sobbed weakly.

"Hey, don't you give up on me. I'm going to get you out of here okay? But I need you to listen; I need you to do what I tell you." His voice was so close, she had been fooled by a voice like his before, she wanted to see him, wanted make sure it was him. "I'm going to put a cord around you, Giz has got the other end, I'm going to untie you and he's going to pull you up. I need you to trust me, and don't take the blind fold off don't do anything until he's got you okay? You just hold onto that cord understand?"

"I've got it tight Ms. Mallard never fear!" Sang the voice of Gizmoduck.

She heard Drake sigh in annoyance at the dramatic delivery of the statement. If she wasn't so scared she would have laughed, she wondered how they even got around to teaming up. His hands started to work the thin line around her, they were warm, so unlike the other Darkwing's, she felt like she might cry again. She felt his warmth on her back, she was sure of it now, he was here, and she had been tied to some kind of pole suspended over something horrible. She felt his breath ruffle her pigtails.

"I'm going to untie you now… you ready?"

"Dad… I"

"Keep it together Gos, are you ready?"

She nodded and felt her body drop. She screamed until her short fall ended and the cord around her tightened against her own weight. She swung through the cold air; her hands found the cord and gripped it tight.

"Upsy daisy!" Shouted Gizmoduck and she started to rise.

Without a second thought she tore the blind fold off and saw the maddening height from which she dangled. She was hanging over the streets of the city, sure to fall to her death if she had been careless.

"Gosalyn! What did I tell you!"

She found him clinging to a flimsy looking flagless flag pole attached to the side of the building. She felt the tears leak out of her eyes as she smiled. It was really him, she could see the kindness, the love in him, the warmth in his eyes, even from so far away. The tears thickly ran down her frozen feathers and he smiled back at her. Gizmoduck's strong grip pulled her up onto solid ground and the towering superhero inspected her as he bent down to speak to her.

"Are you all right Miss?" He asked softly.

She nodded as Darkwing's grappling hook clattered onto the roof and he quickly joined them on the roof. He barely had time to stand up straight when she was upon him, her arms wrapped tightly around him and her face buried into his chest. His warm arms encircled her gently. She was so happy she lost all memory of what had happened, where they were, what she had heard, who she had seen, all she cared about was he'd come.

"You're as cold as ice…" He said sadly and his arms left her. She refused to let him go but felt his cape slide around her, blocking out the chill. He turned her face up with a gentle touch and she opened her leaking eyes. She watched his eyes desperately, afraid that without warning they would change, they would loose the goodness that shone in them. "Do you know where they have Louie? Did you see where they went?"

"I… I heard him when I was down there…" Her vision fell on the edge of the building as she removed her arms from him and wrapped his cape around her tightly.

Darkwing watched her shiver, the tears stills staining her face. He had to concentrate hard to keep his hands from shaking. Red hot anger pumped through him like lava. Where were they? He wanted to teach them you don't mess with a man's child. He turned to inspect where she had indicated but her small hand grabbed his.

"Don't go!" She pleaded. "Don't leave me again!"

His heart broke as he returned his eyes to her, she was so frightened. Gizmoduck had already moved to the side and started searching for the boy. It was odd to have someone to work with, he wasn't sure if he liked it. The hand that held his was frozen, he crouched down before her and scooped her up in his arms. She latched onto him as he picked her up. She was so cold it was uncomfortable to be near her.

"You see anything Giz?"

"Not yet…"

He looked around the empty rooftop and couldn't shake the resemblance. The last time he had been on a roof like this he had nearly been killed in an explosion, only after being pummeled by Taurus Bulba and Bushroot. Gosalyn must have felt the same way, poor kid. He looked at the little girl in his arms to find her eyes already on him.

"He was here." She said barely over a whisper.

"Who?"

"Steelbeak." She shivered.

He hadn't expected that, what was going on here anyway? Why would Steelbeak be here with Magica and a Darkwing doppel…

He felt his blood go cold. When he had woken up in that room wearing a suit, Steelbeak had called him "Boss", was this other Darkwing the head of F.O.W.L.? How was this possible? His head spun with questions.

"I've found him!" Proclaimed Gizmoduck.

Dark approached and looked down at where the boy was curled up on a narrow ledge below.

"I'm coming Louie!" Gizmoduck's helmet split and the helicopter blades shot out.

"Wait." Darkwing's head was crowded and cloudy with what he had deduced but he knew what he had to do. "Gizmoduck I want you to take Gosalyn, rescue Louie and get them out of here."

"No! I won't go! Not with out you!" Gosalyn squealed as she tightened her hold on him.

"Gos, you'll be safe with Gizmoduck and I can't leave until I find Morgana. Please… just do what I say for once in your life."

"He's right Gizmobuddy, this is no place for kids, and it may be our only chance to get you two away." Gizmo rolled over to Darkwing and held his arms out to take her.

Drake found himself confronted with a stern looking pair of wet green eyes.

"You better not die." She ordered.

"I don't intend to."

She turned her head to Giz.

"And you've got to come back and help him."

"I will miss! Woodchuck's honor!" The armored duck saluted.

"Again with the woodchucks…" Dark smiled. Why was he not surprised the oaf had been a boy scout? Gosalyn gave his cheek a kiss and slid into Gizmoduck's grasp.

"Okay, I'll be back before you know it!" Gizmo offered reassuringly.

Drake nodded in response, he couldn't seem to think straight. As the one wheeled battle tank moved toward the ledge the girls eyes didn't leave him. He wished she wouldn't look so sad, she was going to be safe and that's all that mattered. The propeller on Giz's helmet spun into life as they started their aerial descent. The swirling sickness that filled his head suddenly made his heart drop into his webbed feet. He leaned over the edge, Gizmoduck had reached Louie.

"STOP! Gizmoduck! Don't!" He screamed but his words were lost in the rhythmic thumping of the propellers. He was too late.

Louie sat up abruptly and Darkwing watched in horror as electricity shot out of the boy's fingers. The voltage assaulted Gizmoduck, a horrible scream echoed off the surrounding architecture. There was a second blast of lightning and the suit began to smoke. Gosalyn was screaming now, the propeller suddenly stopped. Gizmoduck and Gosalyn made no sound as they began to fall. In panic Dark shot his grappling gun down at them. His aim was dead on and the strong cord encircled them both, there was a horrible lurch and he nearly toppled over the side of the building as he held onto the gun. He planted his feet against the small ledge and leaned back to fight the tension. His arms felt like they would be ripped from their sockets as he struggled to keep his grip. A morbidly amused laugh sounded from behind him. He couldn't move, if he did they would fall. His arms shook threatening to fail, the Gizmosuit was too heavy for him to hold. He couldn't do this alone.

"I knew that goon would fall for the bait but, you offering him Gosalyn?" The voice laughed again. "It's wonderful how these things turn out."

A swarm of bats shot up the side of the building and flapped madly around his head. He closed his eyes as claws scratched at his arms in passing.

"You know you can't hold them. They're as good as dead now thanks to you but, there are still hostages to save. Will you turn your back on little Louie here?"

Drake fought down a scream as he felt the handle of his gun bite into his flesh from the intense weight it had to hold. Blood soaked his glove and his tormentor laughed again.

"Don't drop them Darkwing! Don't worry about me I'll…" Cried Louie's voice until it was silenced by a loud crack. He heard foot steps close in behind him and felt a cold steel barrel press against the back of his head.

"Or how about I kill you now and let them all die."

"You… wouldn't." Dark grunted.

"Wouldn't I?"

"No, because than you wouldn't… be able to torture me anymore." Dark grit his teeth as his blood made his grip on the gas gun slippery. The gun barrel was removed and the man who looked like him casually strolled up beside him, dragging Louie behind him. The boy was severely beaten, bruises were quickly forming and blood splattered his clothing. His double looked pleasantly over the edge then turned to him with a smile.

"Who are you?" Dark snarled.

"I don't think you thought out that question. I know exactly who I am and so do countless others. But then there's you, so the real question is… who are you? You call yourself Drake Mallard, but that's not your real name. Do you even have a name? Not one you pieced together from your miserable excuse for a memory? You have no idea who you are yet, you come up here and look at me like I'm the one who stole your identity when, it's you who's the thief."

"You're… crazy."

"Maybe, but then again it takes one to know one. Or didn't you think I knew about your little funny farm nightmares?"

Dark stared at the face that was a mirror image of his own. The asylum that lived in his head, how could he know about that…? Unless he'd been there, it couldn't be… The double seemed enraptured by his expression.

"That's right. I'm _him_. I'm the one you've spent most of your life being afraid of. How I love to torture you my cowardly little cell mate." The gun almost slid out of Dark's slimy hands in shock. "It's so much fun to be playing with you in person again. Though, I'm sure you don't remember any of the good times we had."

"Why are you doing this?"

There was a genuine look of thought on his torturer's face. Drake felt his left shoulder pop out of its joint and he shouted through his clenched teeth. The double didn't even take notice.

"I suppose you can say I'm getting my revenge, how's that sound?"  
"What did I do to you?" Drake growled the pain blinding him.

"Now's not the time to be catching up on your miserable past. I gave you the option to do that yesterday and you rudely declined it. What you're here to do now is 'rescue' what I've taken from you. But, it looks like you've just gone and made things worse, like usual. You're pathetic." He plucked the cord like a harp string with a distant sneer. "You should learn to let things go. You really can't expect to get them back up here; you've doomed them and yourself."

Someone cleared their throat loudly behind Drake. His double gave the person a thoughtful glare. With a sigh and a blink he fixed his gaze on him again.

"Of course there is another option for you. You see, Ms. DeSpell has taken quite an interest in you, I'll be damned if I know why. Well, I know you're a good looking fella, but apart from that I don't see what use you could possibly be to anyone. I am a gentleman of business, however, and if you just back down now, without going all Dipwing Dork on us, _maybe_ I'll let her have you. What do you say? It beats dying doesn't it?"

"I won't let you win." Dark breathed, his bloody fingers starting to lose their grip.

"I already have. I've got you surrounded by the best shots in my organization, I have an innocent boy hostage, a witch who is under my orders, and Morgana patiently waiting for me in my bedroom. Face it you lose."

"You're wrong." Dark grunted.

"Who are you trying to convince 'Drake'? Me, or yourself?" Sneered the devil beside him. His icy eyes came to rest on his bleeding hands. "Ooh, that must hurt. Do you always have to cling to hopeless cases? You can't possibly help them; you never did have much common sense. So let me help you the once more for old time's sake." He held his gun by the barrel and with a mad grin slammed the handle into Drake's wrist.

Drake screamed as his hold gave out a bit, he could feel the grips on the gun sliding beneath his fingers. Unrelenting, the monster pistol whipped him twice more as bones cracked and splintered with each blow. With a numbness, he felt the cold metal leave his hands as his bloody grasp failed. He fell over backwards, the sudden lack of weight he no longer had to sustain causing him to crash to the cold rooftop. He quickly scrambled to his feet and made to lunge toward the edge, he might not be too late, they could be snagged on something. His attempt was met with a kick to the chest and he found himself sprawled out on the ground again. He screamed in rage and quickly got up. He rose to greet a gun held steadily in front of his face, and the sound of four more hammers being pulled back to his side. He seethed, his clenched fists shaking uncontrollably his blood splattering the floor. He felt the angry tears building but choked them down. His breath was hard and fast, it billowed around him like smoke. His anger was only matched by his grief, he had lost. Lost Gosalyn, lost Gizmoduck, soon he'd have noting left. The man who held his gun on him gave him a creeping smile.

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

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Drake can't get a break, but something tells me you guys wouldn't still be reading if he was having a tea party instead of death defying encounters with maniacal mirror images, or would you? Well, I'll let you mull over this cliff hanger and I'll probably get the next chapter up in a few days, expect a few answers and more questions to come. Thanks for your time!


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Magica's Dime

The cold air struck Drake's eyes, burning with the tears he refused to release. He had lost control of the situation so quickly, fallen face first into the trap he didn't even know was in place. How much more defeat could he endure? No, he wouldn't lose. His teeth hurt from how hard he was gritting them, he would make sure none of these people went on to hurt anyone else. He didn't care what happened to him anymore, he had to turn the tables, if such a thing was possible.

"I told you there was no way to save them, did you really think I'd let you?" Sneered his gun toting rival.

"You smile while you can… I'm going to kill you. Even if I have to do it with my bare hands…" Darkwing growled, sounding more like the duck he faced due to the pure hatred and malice that resonated from his voice. The duck dressed as him let his grin fade, there was a thoughtful glint in the cold eyes.

"You really have changed, but not enough to make any difference."

"I'll make sure you won't survive the night." Drake's voice cracked with his heartbroken anger.

"You would try to kill me wouldn't you? You already have, and now that we're older I wouldn't put it past you. Especially now that your _perfect_ little life has been stripped away, you really have nothing else to lose. There is just one problem, I am stronger, I am faster, better, and I still hold all the cards." The calm voice was more evil than anything Drake had ever heard. Considering the madmen he had encountered in the last few months, that was saying something. "You very well may _try_ to attack me but… would you ever knowingly cause the death of a child?" Without taking his eyes off Drake the double pointed his gun at the boy and unloaded a bullet into Louie's leg. Drake's blood was on fire as the boy screamed in pain. The sneer was back on his tormentor's face. "Are you going to cry you weakling? After all you've done and all you've failed to do, the sad excuse of a life you just destroyed all on your own, I wouldn't blame you for sobbing like a little girl. Your very existence is a crying shame."

The situation was one sided, no matter what side you were on. Steelbeak watched the scene from down the barrel of his gun. The Boss had always enjoyed torture, "enjoyed" wasn't anywhere near the right word. The Boss _loved_ to torture people, it was more than unsettling how much pleasure it brought him. It was like watching a cat play with a mouse before it devoured it, only the cat would have to break limbs and remove body parts for the sheer joy of it. But this, he wasn't sure what this was. He wouldn't let his aim or his face reflect the uncertainty in his orders, but he still felt it. He had been assigned more brutal jobs than this but there always seemed that there was something to gain. There was always information, or money, or just good old power, but Steelbeak couldn't see anything worth while in this case. As far as he knew there was no reason behind this, sure Darkwing was a pest, but not a big enough nuisance to even notice most of the time. He took in the two people before him, they were identical, it was so strange, were they brothers? This guy was the one who had run away from him the other day at headquarters, ultimately confusing the hell out of him. The Boss found the entire ordeal hilarious, but he just couldn't see any point in the prank. Why would the Boss let his guy know where they operated out of? It seemed like such a sloppy move for the usually flawlessly thorough Negs. Then he went and got the guy's kid and girl. Now the kid was dead and he wasn't really sure what was in store for the dame.

"Better them than me." Said his ego. He was still surprised the Boss had taken the news of Bud Flood's death as well as he had. Something told him the rage would come after he had his fun with destroying Darkwing. He hoped his luck would hold out.

The woman who could turn into bats was standing beside him. He didn't like her, didn't like any of this hocus pocus nonsense. She was a nasty little bugger too, mean and way too unattractive for him to be polite to her. She was just in essence _greasy_, he didn't know how else to put it. Everything about her was so slippery and shifty, he didn't trust her… not one bit. She bothered him, and he knew the Boss wasn't too fond of her either. Was she really that important that they had to tolerate her? If he had his way he'd put a bullet through her scheming head as quick as he could. Her eyes flashed onto him suddenly and he quickly looked back at his target. He didn't like her one bit. The boy's screams drowned out the Boss's taunts. He felt the woman glare at him for a while until she finally looked away. The Boss's 'twin' looked like he was on verge of exploding.

"Agent Steelbeak sir?" Said a voice in the speaker in his ear. "The ransom has arrived."

"Hey Boss." Steelbeak shouted. The eerie empty eyes locked on him in a silent reprimand for interrupting his fun. "Da delivery boy is here."

A wicked smile overtook the annoyance.

"Excellent. Ms. DeSpell, you may go receive your payment from Mr. McQuack..." Steelbeak saw the target's eyes widen, the Boss seemed pleased. "… and after you have obtained it, kill him."

"No!" Roared the target beside himself with rage. The Boss laughed heartily.

"Did you really think I'd let any of your allies out live you? No, you'll die knowing you killed everyone that ever cared about you."

The short woman beside him smirked to herself. She gave the Boss and him a smug glance, Steelbeak didn't like that look. He fought the urge to gun her down as she walked off toward the stairwell.

"If you hurt him I swear… I will not rest until you're all burning in hell!" Fumed the masked duck, his hand still bleeding profusely.

"Oh will you now?" Smiled the Boss. "You could of course try to help your stupid friend but Louie would have to die."

"Darkwing…" sobbed the broken boy. "…Please, help Launchapad."

Steelbeak found it hard to look at the child, which was odd. He had bloodied his hands and murdered in cold blood, but this boy made his heart break. He was a damn selfless little fool. Not once when they beat him did he beg for his own safety, he was constantly negotiating for someone else. Steelbeak had broken grown men who never showed half the courage this kid had, but he knew in the long run, it would end the same way. The Boss didn't take prisoners. The target lowered his eyes with misery, another fool at a loss before another of the Boss's perfect plans.

"What the hell is that?" Hissed the agent to his left.

With a blink he followed his colleague's gaze. A strange bird was perched on the ledge beside the Boss and his prey. He blinked a few times to be sure it was there, it looked like something that didn't belong in the real world, rather like it would be curling's pearl like talon's gently around a princess's finger as she sang. It looked almost like a peacock, but had fiery red plumage and bright purple eyes. It sat peacefully looking on at the brutality before it, in front of killers. The bird opened it's golden beak and exploded into a hope filled bout of song. He felt his face contort into confusion; could this day get any stranger? He chanced a glance at the Boss, he looked at the creature with his usual annoyance, but with out any more knowledge than he had. Then he noticed the target, he was staring at the unnatural avian with disbelief, like he'd seen it before. What did he know that they didn't?

Drake saw the bird, despite his doubts it was there, and judging by the perplexed looks on his captors' faces so did they. He had only seen a bird like this once in his whole life, and it was only a month earlier. A combination of his power and magic had created this creature, it was hers.

Morgana stood in the hall way, the cold night air swirling her ebony hair around her, the silk dress she had been provided with flapping madly. She had to catch herself on the wall to keep from stumbling, the glass from the broken window glittering on the floor like star dust. The ghost boy knelt down beside the figures she had caught with what magic she could muster and brought them through the window. The shattered window breathed the frigid weather into the building rank with the smell of decay, even in this cold she felt warmer than he had so shortly ago. She was far from recovered, and her power was no where near what it had to be, but she could cast spells again. The metal of the massive suit was steaming, she prayed the man inside was still alive. Dewey bent his face down to the purple visor and whispered something. She crouched down and watched the little girl wrapped in her father's cape stir silently. She had to let him know, with a wave of her finger and a soft incantation she summoned a creature from one of her dearest memories to deliver the news to Drake. The bird fluttered swiftly out the gaping hole and she began to untangle the two figures from the cord of Darkwing's gun covered in blood.

Launchpad stood gravely in the small room the yellow suited henchmen had shown him to. He didn't like this; he knew it wouldn't save anyone. He held the small glass case in his pocket tightly. The money to the old stonehearted Glomgold was punishment enough to Mr. McD's ego but taking Louie and asking for ten cents was just insulting. Did these monsters really put such a low value on the boy's life? And why have him deliver it? They asked for him by name, he knew he was being used and he hated it. Fenton and Drake had made it this far, but no one had heard from them since they arrived. Were they in trouble? Maybe he could do something, could he somehow become a hero like his friends? He wasn't smart like Drake, or as well equipped as Fenton. He was just a McQuack, not especially good at anything that didn't involve mechanical maintenance, and even then he lacked confidence as of late. There wasn't much he could do, nothing they couldn't. He could think of nothing he was capable of that would turn the tables. He wasn't even sure who was going to walk through that door, which was the way they wanted it, no doubt. If Mr. Mc D was here instead he would think of something, strike a deal of some kind, but then he would be in danger. Launchpad didn't want anyone else in peril… he just hoped it all turned out okay. He still had to apologize to Goslayn, come to think of it… why was Darkwing here and not with her? He felt his stomach twist as he recalled how Quackerjack had taken the child from him; she wasn't here too was she? Launchpad was in trouble and he knew it, but he'd rather be put before a pit of lions alone than have anyone else hurt, he couldn't stand to think all his friends were in more danger than he was. The door slowly opened and the sight made his mouth go dry.

"Good evening darlink." Smiled the short raven haired woman as she strolled in, the door slamming itself shut behind her. "Where ees my dime?"

"Let me see Louie first." He demanded.

"Eet's talk like that, that gets people killed darlink." She put a hand on her hip and flipped her hair. "Do not make me ask you again."

Launchpad took the case out of his pocket and saw the lights dim, along with the greed swell in her eyes. This coin was more important than anyone could have ever imagined. The way she looked at it, it was eerie. She strode toward him her eyes locked on the silver circle, he backed away but she snatched the case out of his hands.

"At last!" She giggled to herself. "At last I have eet! I have waited so long for this!" The room darkened as she turned it over in her hands, and a chill fell over him. He wished he had never set foot in this building. Magica's gaze slowly rose back to meet his, but where near jet black had been were now two burning red eyes. What had he done? "Thank you for your cooperation, now I truly am the most powerful being in the world. As a reward you will be the first to die at the hands of a god."

Launchpad put himself behind the little desk the room harbored, not that it was magic resistant but he had to do something. He watched the woman as she pulled a gothic dagger out of thin air and sunk it into her own left forearm. She removed the blade and shoved the dime into the wound, with a tap of her finger the laceration was covered in black bandages. The red eyes fell on him again and he felt his body seize up. The woman sauntered toward him, a horrible grin on her face.

"Having trouble moving darlink? You want to run I can see that, as you should, but there ees no escaping Magica DeSpell." She put her hands on her hips with a cackle and he felt like he was covered in bugs, he winced. It was all she would let him do. "I have something I want tell you, I've been dying to confess for years now but you understand why I didn't. I was too happy watching Scroogie in such pain, knowing that such a simple spell killed one of his greatest treasures. Then he blamed you!" She erupted into more laughter. "He denies it now, but we both know he did. You heard as well as I, the heart broken sobbing and angry accusations… ohh boo hoo poor Scroogie." She mocked with a ghastly smile. "Now you know the truth, I killed the boy. I jinxed your plane, had I been given more time I would have upped the death count by three more. But eet looks like I get to finish most of that job tonight, who knows I may track down Huey before dawn and make eet after all." She was upon him.

She placed a warm hand on his face and he grunted in pain. It felt like he was covered in fishhooks that were being pulled in all different directions at once.

"You really don't know how to pick friends that keep themselves out of trouble darlink." She sneered relishing in his pain. Her fingernails dug into his feathers and a new wave of agony took him. Every organ in his body felt like it was collapsing in upon itself. He couldn't breath, his vision was blackening. "You lived a meaningless life Launchpad McQuack, and now you die."

Something bright white and hazy passed through the wall next to him, he stared at it as death grasped for him. The face he knew too well slowly came into focus.

"I've brought her to help you! You're not going to die here Launchpad." Smiled the transparent boy in a blue hat. "And your life is far from meaningless."

The wall behind them exploded and Magica's magic failed. Launchpad hacked and wheezed air back into his aching lungs as he hit the ground. Magica straightened herself out angrily; the explosion had thrown her back toward the door a bit, giving him some much needed distance from the woman. The scowl she wore faded into a smirk.

"Ah, I was so hoping I would be able to sharpen my fangs on you first darlink."

Through his blurry vision he saw a beautiful woman step through the rubble that had been a wall. He gagged on the dust that filled the air as Morgana knelt beside him, her eyes never leaving Magica.

"Are you all right?" She whispered. All he could manage was a nod. Magica was openly livid with the young witch's lack of response.

"I am going to crush you." Flared the fierce red eyed sorceress.

"I don't think your 'Boss' will like that." Morgana said firmly, Magica laughed.

"Him? I have all the powers of the cosmos at my command! He can do nothing to stop me, just like you. Now you are not the only one who has found her mystical center. You can thank Mr. McQuack for delivering eet so diligently."

"S…sorry." He croaked. She put a hand comfortingly on his back and a bizarre sort of pins and needles chased away his lingering ache. He had been healed by her before but it was just as amazing then as it was now. She stood.

"Again you go running your mouth off you senile old bat. Why not put your magic where your mouth is?" Morgana snapped.

There was a dark flare that hit Morgana just as she finished her taunt. She had to throw her hands up with a counter spell to block it, but still slid backwards. Surprise was unmasked on the pretty face.

"You are a pushover with out your little lover boy to feed off of. I am so going to enjoy destroying you."

Morgana's fingers made an intricate pattern in the air but another dark shock broke her concentration and pushed her into the bit of wall that remained harshly. Launchpad got to his feet, he didn't know what he could do but he had to help her. He picked up a heavy paper weight from the desk. Magica was radiating with a deep violet glow, her next attack already prepared. Morgana cast a fierce spell that ripped through the cramped room, and he threw the weight at the malicious witch. Magica let out a small puff of breath, like she was extinguishing a candle, and the spell Morgana had thrown at her disappeared, the paper weight flew back at him. He ducked away as it smashed into the wall leaving a large dent. Magica raised her hands to aim her spell at them both. It was no use, she was too strong.

"I am disappointed. I expected more from you my dear." A toothy grin spread malevolently across her rancid face.

There was a loud wooden crash followed instantly by a gunshot. Magica's sneer vanished as she shrieked in pain before she disappeared in a tower of flame that scorched the ceiling. The dramatic exit left floating lights on his vision but he heard the rest of the door breaking away and Morgana let out a trembling breath. As he blinked the disorientation away he saw the short man holster his gun. Launchpad swallowed hard as J. Gander Hooter stepped into the room, carefully analyzing them both.

"Are you both unharmed?" Said the elderly voice. A couple S.H.U.S.H. agents hung back outside the door. Launchpad nodded dimly and he looked to Morgana who didn't seem to be bothered by Hooter in the slightest. Did she know who he was? She was staring thoughtfully at the charred spot above. Hooter was taking them in carefully, as if committing them to memory. "Where is McDuck's boy, Gizmoduck, and Darkwing?" Hooter asked as he flicked a splinter off his shoulder.

"I… I'm not sure." Launchpad started.

"Yes of course, you are Mr. McQuack are you not?" He suddenly closed his eyes and opened them with a knowing look aimed at him. "I say, I recognize your voice. You work with Darkwing Duck do you?"

"Huh? I don't know w..what…"

"You were the pilot who warned us about the impending Waddlemeyer grade explosion a few months back. Interesting that they would ask you here to transport the ransom, unless they knew about your connections to the vigilante as well." Hooter reflected as he ran a thoughtful hand across the top of his balding head.

Launchpad was abashed; he had just revealed his biggest secret to the head of S.H.U.S.H. without any control over it.

"Gizmoduck is on the floor above us, his suit short circuited he had to reboot it and rewire a few things but he will be active again soon enough. Darkwing and the boy are on the roof, and in bad company." Morgana's charming voice cut through the pregnant silence like a hot knife through butter. She was receiving Hooter's gaze head on, but she was not fazed as Launchpad had been, she simply returned the look.

"Madam, may I be so bold as to ask whose side you're on?"

"I am on whatever side Darkwing is, Agent Hooter." She replied coolly.

"I see, he did seem quite shaken when I confronted him with the idea of a female companion before, you are his girlfriend I'd wager?" Hooter put his hands in his pockets.

"Something like that." Was her response. "We should be trying to help him instead of flapping our gums shouldn't we?"

"Indeed, but first I would like to know your name."

"I'd rather keep it to myself if it's all the same to you sir." She glanced over her shoulder to the room on the other side of the broken down wall.

"It doesn't make much difference Ms. I have a very good memory and a lovely face like yours will be easy to recognize. I have many ways to discover your identity." Hooter's tone was not threatening but the words he spoke made Launchpad want to tell him everything he knew about Morgana. She turned to Hooter with a sweet smile.

"I'm afraid your memory will haze my features if you were to attempt a search."

Hooter chuckled. "Will it now? It would appear that Ms. DeSpell is not the only spell caster on the grounds. No wonder why Darkwing is so fond of you, you two are perhaps perfectly matched." Hooter turned to the two lurking agents. "Go on a head and begin to secure a route to the roof, we shall attempt to save the boy ourselves." The agents ran off out of sight, the old man faced them again. "We have taken the lower levels of the building Mr. McQuack, I believe it would be best for you to leave now before it gets hectic once again." He set a foot back outside the decrepit door. "Oh and Ms. I do believe you will beat us to the roof so I shall see you there." With that he followed his agents.

Launchpad stared at the empty door way for a moment, then let his eyes travel to the large burn above. He couldn't seem to get a real hold on what had happened, had he really seen Dewey? He'd been killed by Magica, all this time she had been responsible. Now she was ten times stronger, what had he done? There was no way they could stop her, he looked at Morgana who's green eyes were closed. She looked exhausted.

"You're not really going after Magica, are you?" He asked as he brushed himself off.

"I have to." Her bright eyes opened with determination glowing in them. "I have to finish her once and for all, but I need you to do something for me Launchpad."

"Anything."

Morgana carefully climbed the small pile of rubble that had been a wall and moved into the room beyond. The debris crunched under her bare feet, he wondered why she didn't have any shoes on, why she was in a dress. When she reappeared she wasn't alone. The red headed little girl was unconscious in her arms as she tried to keep her footing on the wreckage. He rushed to aide her his heart catching in his throat.

"Gos! Is she all right? What happened?"

"She'll be fine, but you have to get her out of here before Magica or Hooter find her."

Launchpad carefully took the motionless child in his arms and felt his heart breaking. She looked so pale, and she was so cold. Dark circles were forming under her eyes and her hair had fallen out of it's pigtails, leaving a mess of tangled red resting on his arms. Morgana ran her fingers through the girl's disheveled hair and exhaled sadly.

"You'll take care of her, right Launchpad? I don't know what will happen up there…"

"Hey, I'll see you and DW at the victory celebration." He said firmly.

She smiled half heartedly, meeting his brown eyes.

"Let's hope so."

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales, and all related characters are © Disney

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Dun dun dun!! Behold my reasoning for Magica's coin fixation! Can our hero and heroine come out of this in one piece? A heck of a fight awaits them, an unlikely "ally"… and a murder most foul. All that and today's Friday the 13th! Eep! Be safe everyone, don't walk under ladders, and stay away from black cats! Oh, and stay far far away from the Voorhees family…they're crazy.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Glomgold

Drake tried to compile himself, but it was near impossible to do. Blood was leaking into his mouth and his ribs were screaming. With a strangled scream he popped his arm back into it's socket, barely aware that it would most likely be once again dislocated anyway. He had taken his fair share of beatings in his life but this, this was by far the worst. His look-alike knew just where to hit him to make him crumble. Old wounds that never properly healed were exploited and bludgeoned. He didn't know if he had any strength left in him. The worst part about this abuse was he had no choice, he had to endure it. If he tried to defend himself, tried to fight back Louie would pay for it. It was stupid, he knew that if he died here Louie's death would soon follow, but he didn't want to be the cause. A strong kick to his ribs from his double's steel toed boot knocked the little breath he had out of him. He gasped painfully, the blood from his mouth dripping feebly onto the cold roof; he just wished he knew what was going on. Morgana had sent that bird, but it was gone now, what did she want to tell him? What had happened to Launchpad?

If he tried to make a break for it, tried to save the boy, the goons would gun him down faster than the blink of an eye. Did he really have no options here? Was it really hopeless, would nothing he could do result in any good? Nothing. That was what he was being forced to do as he had the living daylights beat out of him. The double slammed the butt of his gun along the side of his head with a mad grin. The searing pain blinded him and he regained his senses as he lay collapsed on the floor. It was over, why wouldn't he just let him die, why did he have to drag this out… just get it over with.

"You're pathetic." Growled the voice above him. "You're so willing to roll over and die, for what? I'm going to kill Louie anyway so why don't you just get up and fight back?"

Louie hadn't shown any signs of life in a while; Drake couldn't help but suspect the worst. But if he wasn't still alive why wouldn't the double proclaim it, no he was sure the boy was still breathing. His doppelganger seized him by the collar of his bloodstained costume and crouched over him.

"Admit it, I've destroyed you. I've taken away your life, undone anything you set up for yourself, just like you did to me. Now you're too broken to even throw a punch, how does it feel to know you've been wrong? I want you to beg… beg me to kill you… because I'm only getting started."

Before he could even register how truly enraged he was Drake kicked a leg out that landed a hard blow directly on the other's chest. The impact resulted in a stumble and another opportunity. Drake kicked his tormentor square on the bill and sent him to the floor. Through his pain he scrambled to his feet and heard the F.O.W.L. gunners ready to fire at him. He couldn't get away, but he was done being pummeled, and he was not going to beg. If they were going to shoot him he'd rather get in a few swings first. To his surprise his nemesis issued a cruel laugh and held up a hand to halt the firing squad. Rubbing his jaw he steadied himself with a rancid smile on his face.

"Well, well, well color me surprised." He sneered. "Glad to see you're not as big of a push over as you used to be…"

"Shut up." Dark snapped. "I'm done listening to you." He raised his fists which earned a satisfied grin from his opponent.

"Finally." The icy eyes narrowed. "I've been wanting to wring the last breath out of your scrawny little neck for the longest time. Now… if only I had my chainsaw…"

Drake stared down his toughest challenge yet. He knew how strong he was, knew he was fast, he was unscathed. There was no way he could beat him, not in the shape he was in. Would the cronies even let him try? Something told him if he did manage to get the upper hand he wouldn't be permitted to continue. The only thought he had, where he could see himself having a snowball's chance in hell, was something he had never been too eager to commit to. What he needed was someone else, he needed some back up, an ally, Morgana or Gizmoduck, S.H.U.S.H. or even a police officer, at this point he would take any help, he was desperate. Suddenly a pillar of flames erupted between the two adversaries, Drake clamped his eyes shut to shield them from the blaze. The light vanished and he opened his eyes to see Magica poised between them, a violet haze surrounding her, her eyes glowing red.

"You're in my way old lady." Snarled his double at the wicked witch.

"No. Eet ees you who have stood een my way for far too long darlink." She fixed him with her burning gaze and sneered. "Een fact, I think eet's time you take orders from me Glomgold!" With a flick of her wrist his double was knocked off his feet and thrown into his gunners.

Dark winced when she said the name. Glomgold? That was his doppelganger's name? Why was it so familiar? The short imposing woman turned to him.

"As for you my dear, eet never would have worked out between us." Her hair billowed around her by an unseen tempest. "Now, I will wipe you off the face of the planet."

"I doubt that Granny, I can take anything you can dish out." He boasted, hoping to buy himself some time.

"Not anymore."

He felt his feathers quiver as she prepared a spell for him. This was different, she was different. He couldn't put his finger on it, couldn't explain it, but he knew she was stronger. He let out an inward groan, he should have just kept his mouth shut. Her eyes were so vibrant it hurt to look at them, and her hands weaved through the air blurring the magic around her. He felt his lungs contract and gagged as she smiled at him, her hands never stopping.

"Do not despair darlink… I'll make sure Morgana will be right behind you."

There was a high pitched blast that tore through the sky, she spun around quickly to deflect it. Dark gulped in the freezing air into his recovering organs greedily as another blue laser pelted her from above.

"There is no need to fear! Gizmoduck is here!" Sang the flying hunk of metal on a wheel, Drake had never been happier to hear that stupid voice. Magica let out an aggravated snarl.

"That's eet! Her meddling has gone too far!" Fumed the sorceress as she growled at the hovering hero as he darted around the sky. "Eet's not nice to fire at a lady! And eet's incredibly _stupid_ to shoot at a witch!" Her full attention was on trying to down Giz and Darkwing was able to get himself together.

Louie was lying a few feet away from him, he must have been abandoned when Magica appeared, he had to act fast. He avoided drawing attention to himself as he approached the child. Louie was still breathing as Dark heaved him up painfully into his arms. There was only so long Gizmoduck could distract her and even less time until the so called "Glomgold" regained his composure. He wouldn't risk letting the boy fall into their scheming hands again. It was agony to hold the heavy boy but he managed to run to a deserted end of the rooftop. He looked over the side and barely made out the flashing of police lights below, he was strongly reminded of the last time he did what he was a bout to repeat. The shiny white armor zoomed overhead dodging magical blasts.

"Gizmoduck!" Dark shouted, he feared his voice would be weak from the twisted magic that was cast on him but it rang out loud and clear.

The purple visor locked onto him and Dark knew he understood. With a heave Darkwing threw the boy over the side. He wasn't even able to steady himself before Gizmoduck plummeted after the child. Dark watched as he caught the boy and the helicopter sprouted from the helmet to ease their descent, he sighed in relief. There was no hostage, now things were really going to get dangerous. He slowly turned to find he was being stared down by the malicious magician. He wasn't sure if it was because he didn't have to worry about the boy's well being but he noticed something he'd missed before.

"You've only saved him temporarily, all of them will be dead before the dawn. No one can stop me."

"Really?" He smirked.

"Yes really." She snarled mockingly.

"Then why are you bleeding?" He felt the smile tug at his mouth as she covered the bullet wound in her shoulder angrily. "You have all this magic and not one spell to cure yourself? You should know better… All the black magic in the world won't save a fool."

"No? Well eet certainly can kill one!" She flared. He barely saw her finger move before he was knocked harshly backward over the edge of the building.

The wind screamed around him and he reached for his gun. He found it missing and remembered how he'd lost it. The moment of panic came to a sudden stop and so did he. He hung in mid fall motionless, his breath coming fast and painful, staring at his own reflection in the window he had halted in front of. Despite the cruel cold air he felt a warmth creep over him, a feeling he recognized with a smile. It was about time. With a lurch he arched through the air back to the rooftop and landed on his feet unsteadily. She was standing with her back to him, a few steps before him, just being near her made his pain ease.

"She's found her magical source." Morgana whispered to him with out moving, he knew as well she did Magica would strike if she so much as blinked.

"Oh… well that explains it." He responded meekly. The mean witch stood staring Morgana down, with a glare that burned. "We can take her…" he saw Morgana's knees shaking ever so slightly, "…right?"

"We're going to try."

"Try all you want you idiots! I've seen how your sloppy synthesis words! You can only stop me eef you leave him vulnerable and dying!" Cackled the woman. "And killing him will destroy whatever resistance you can muster you brat!" There was a dark flare at her fingertips.

A din of angry gunshots erupted and Magica quickly threw her arms into the air, a violet trail marking their movement. The bullets hit her magical shield with a growl from the furious DeSpell. The one the witch had called Glomgold was on his feet again and had his gunmen unloading their clips at the older woman. Each face was locked in determined scowls as they expertly fired at her, all for one. Glomgold was steadily glaring at Darkwing, the cold eyes having a similar effect of Magica's only without the use of anything supernatural. Out of the corner of his eye Drake saw Morgana's knees shaking even worse, like she was about to collapse, like the act of standing was too painful. He instinctively steadied her with a firm grip and with the strange sensation he knew all too well he noticed the shaking had stopped. It wasn't fear that made her uneasy. This, he deduced, was much more complicated than he ever imagined.

"Morgana my dear, you were supposed to stay put." Growled Glomgold over the racket. "I can't have you wandering around making a mess of things."

"He's your Negatrons." Morgana hissed to Drake, still not letting her guard down. "I don't know how… but he is."

Drake tried to think out what this meant. Glomgold was filled with Negatrons that interfered with Morgana's magic. That part, as crazy as it sounded, he understood. However, she had said 'he's your Negatrons', how could someone else have something he was supposed to? And why would Glomgold have them? Was any of this supposed to make any sense? This path of thinking made his head hurt… literally. He couldn't fight the feeling that he knew the answer, but it was almost as if he was hiding it from himself. He was pulled out of his thoughts when Magica made one of the gunmen explode. The other cronies stopped shooting out of pure shock of having bits of their comrade splattered on them. The raw and reckless display of power made it impossible for anyone to ignore her. She was the center of attention and judging by her grin, that was precisely what she was aiming for.

"Behold what a god can do! I will do the same to all of you until there is none left to oppose me!" She laughed. Her bout of mad cackling was interrupted by a disgusted sigh.

"You're being awfully dramatic you old hag. It leads me to believe your bark is worse than your bite." Growled Glomgold irritably.

"You think you're so smart, don't you Duncan? Then come over here and I'll show you how bad my bite ees." She growled right back. He ignored her.

"And though I **_hate_** to admit it, Dipwing was right. You're at a loss when it comes to recovery magic. If Rusty here nails you with a good hit you're out of the game indefinitely." He gave Steelbeak a meaningful look, in response the rooster raised his gun and took steady aim.

"I will not be hit by another lucky shot. This ees the end for all of you." The air crackled with electricity as Magica burst out in chilling laughter.

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Darkwing Duck Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

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Shooort chapter, well by my standards anyway, but it packs a punch no? And really… did none of you wonderful sleuths out there think Glomgold was Negs? I thought it was such an obvious twist, don't get me wrong I'm not disappointed, in fact if that's the case than I am so pleased! I wanted it to be shocking. And if you go back, this has been planned very carefully from the beginning of the series. Ah, but then the next question you ask is... is he really a Glomgold? But more importantly what's his deal with Drake? Hehe you'll just have to mull over those questions for yourself. I'll try to get another **longer** chapter up soon, but I wanted to get something up for you guys this week and the days are slipping by so quickly!


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty One

Lord Negaduck

The first thing that came back to her was her hearing, a dull hum ringing inside her own head being the sound she heard. She felt her chest ache with every shallow breath she took. Sleepily, Gosalyn opened her eyes. Every inch of her hurt and the vision danced back to her eyes, showing her a strange place. Her mind started to work itself out and she regained her wits to determine she was in the back of an unmoving ambulance. It took another few seconds before she remembered why she had been put here. She could vaguely recall the lightning form from the disguised witch's fingertips. How was she still in one piece? Was Gizmoduck as fortunate as she was? And what had happened to Drake? She tried to sit up but it was too much, she could barely breathe without wincing.

"Easy now Gos, everything's gunna be fine." Said a comforting voice beside her. She didn't need to look at him to know who was there, she knew his voice all too well. A strong hand, calloused with the wear of his work, gently took hers.

"Launchpad…" She croaked. "What happened to Dad?"

"He's still up there, but don't you worry, he'll be with ya before you know it."

He sounded so sure, but he hadn't seen the rooftop. Hadn't seen the villains that were waiting for Darkwing, the duck that was just like him, only more evil than anything she'd ever seen. She wanted to agree, to believe that Drake would come back to her, but she couldn't get the other duck's laugh out of her head, those eyes, his voice, she shuddered.

"Hey, take it easy okay? He's gunna be all right, Morgana's helping him."

She looked at him weakly, he looked so pale. Did he believe what he was saying? It was hard to tell. She pushed aside the fears of what could happen, the words of the journal taking over her thoughts. She had to ask him, before she lost her nerve, before someone else came along. He spoke again before she could say a word.

"I'm so sorry Gos." His brown eyes bore into her, sadness living in them. "I really messed up, I never should have thought that Darkwing would…." He sighed. "I've been a real jerk, and I can understand if you hate me. I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt you, you or Drake."

"Is that why you're going to leave?" She interjected, there was a moment that all they could hear was the commotion of the police outside. "I mean, I know how much they love you and I know you really love them too. I know that you used to do all kinds of stuff with them, adventures and mysteries, stuff we'd never be able to do. So, if you want to go back with them its okay, I won't hate you." She closed her sore eyes. "I'm not a baby I can deal with it." If that was what he wanted how could she try to keep it from him? She wanted him to be happy, just like he had wanted for her, and if that happiness wasn't here than why would he stay? She couldn't wish ill on him, he had almost been her father when Drake went missing after the Taurus Bulba accident… she wanted him to do what he wanted.

"Gos."

The back doors of the ambulance were suddenly torn open and a blocky silhouette filled the opening.

"McQuack! Glad to see you're all right!" Sang the dramatic voice.

"Gizmoduck! You're okay!" Gosalyn shouted happily as she forced herself to sit up.

"Sure am Gizmobuddy, and I'm real happy to see you're doin' fine as well."

The shadow that was Gizmoduck bulged oddly and the boy that the hero held broke out of his grip. Louie looked worse than when she had last seen him. He was bloodied, bruised, looked on the verge of collapse and walked with a painful limp. Launchpad was visibly relieved to see Louie, regardless of his condition, however the boy didn't pay him any mind. In fact, his full attention was on her, staring at her, did she have something on her face? His unrelenting gaze made her very uncomfortable, why was he looking at her like that? Launchpad was asking Gizmoduck something but she didn't want to be distracted. Louie looked like he was ready to spring something, to do something he shouldn't, was it Magica again? She felt her throat tighten, she really didn't want to be zapped again. With a hurried limp the boy came over to her, she fought the urge to scoot away, had she guessed right? Was the witch going to kill her? Something happened that took a second to sink in. Quick and soft he kissed her. It was only a peck on the bill but her face turned bright red and he crushed her in a hug.

"I was so afraid you were dead…" He said weakly.

She didn't know what to do. She wanted to hit him, but how could she when he held her so tight? Her face was so red it hurt and the two grown men that were witness to the act looked as shocked as she had been, but offered no assistance. Launchpad was looking at them his jaw hanging open, and though Gizmoduck wore a helmet she was sure his eyes bugged out of their sockets. At a complete loss she stiffly patted his back.

"Uh… well… I'm not dead." She said uneasily, trying not to think of the blood he was getting on her, or the sweaty mess that he was.

"No you're not." He laughed lightly.

"Louie!" Squealed a girly voice from behind Gizmoduck and Webby pushed her way into the back of the ambulance. From the hole the little girl left Gosalyn saw someone she didn't expect. Honker? What was he doing here? Was it her imagination or did he look angry? Webby threw her arms around Louie who was still hugging her and she was now being squeezed by two pairs of arms, her face a new shade of red. Why was he just standing there? Couldn't he see she needed help? The desperation must have been clear on her face because the little Muddlefoot shook his head with a weak smile as he climbed into the compartment as well. Honker set to work getting the two other children off her and as soon as her arms were free she wiped her bill thoroughly. Louie was quickly escorted away by medics and she noticed the rest of the McDuck clan hanging around outside the open doors. Scrooge followed Louie looking so worried he would faint, but Huey gave her a snide smile and a small wink. She felt her temper flare, he'd seen him kiss her and did nothing to stop it… she made a mental note to give him the worst headlock of his life. Her eyes scanned the now open area, he was gone! No, she wanted to ask him something, he had to still be around.

"Gizmoduck!" She cried. The rolling armor came back into sight.

"Yes?" He looked anxious and antsy, it was clear to her now that he was going back up there. Going to help Darkwing, her fear eased ever so slightly.

"Bring him back….okay?"

The only visible part of the duck inside the suit was his neck and bill, which was currently clamped in a serious frown. For the first time in her life she wondered about the man inside the armor. He must feel as lousy as she did, if not worse, but he couldn't lay down, he had to keep pressing on. Was he like Drake underneath it all? Battered and bruised all the time? Did he question why he did this everyday? Wonder if he would come back safely? Did he have someone at home worrying about him? His response to her request was something that burned itself into her mind. It was simple, but struck her so hard she'd never forget it. It showed his loyalty, his integrity, and his undeniable good heart. He straightened up formally, and saluted her.

The roof was a scene of sheer chaos. Gun shots ripped through the air in all directions, bullets being ricocheted by their target, and the sky was thick with magic. There was no reason, no rhyme, the Agents took whatever shot they got at whatever they could, while Magica assaulted anyone she got within range of. The cries of anguish came only from the F.O.W.L. members, this was getting them nowhere. In a fit of desperation Darkwing pulled Morgana into the cover of the stairwell's structure. He could barely think over the noise and his pain. She leaned against the solid wall like it was the only sane thing in the world, a feeling he shared. He raised his voice over the racket.

"What's the plan?"

"I… I don't have one." Morgana replied with a hopeless sigh. She slid down to sit, her back pressed against the cold wall. That was not the response he had hoped for, he only had one idea and he really didn't want to use it. He crouched beside her, his body screaming at him. She shook her head miserably. "It's no use. She's just too powerful. You saw what she did, there's nothing I can throw at her that would even make a scratch."

He grabbed her firmly by the arm, forcing the clutter out of his head.

"Don't give up on me, we're going to do this. We can't let her beat us, imagine what she'd do after she wins here, can you let that happen?"

"No, but…"

"But," he interrupted her. "…the only way you can fight her is by tapping my power again."

"No!" She looked at him, her eyes filled with a fear he hadn't seen before. He knew she wasn't afraid of Magica, or him, she was afraid of herself. "I can't, I almost killed you last time. I won't do that again."

"There's no other way, trust me, I don't want to do it either. As long as…" He paused in thought. "As long as Glomgold is up here you can't use your magic the way you normally do am I right? So this is what has to happen."

"Dark… I could kill you."

"But you won't. You didn't last time. This time will be no different, except she won't get away. Morg, you're the only one who can stop her." She held onto his hand tightly. "Honestly, we don't have a choice."

She fixed him with a piercing gaze, one that begged him to think of another way, under that look he wished he could. If he was Basil of Baker Street or Einstein he might have, but he wasn't a genius, no matter how clever he was he just couldn't see another option. Her demeanor saddened when she found no alternative in his eyes. He knew this time the pain would be unbearable; he was in horrible shape to begin with so it would be ten times worse than the last. She closed her eyes and he felt the world fall on top of him. He was now the one sitting against the wall as she stood strong and sure. She peered down at him remorsefully.

"This is what has to be done! So go on and do it before it's too late!" He snapped at her.

Magica swiped at the air and a bright flash shot from her hand and pierced one of the three remaining men before her. She felt it tear right through his heart and sneered as he hit the ground. There were only two flies left to swat now, the loud mouth rooster and the arrogant little Glomgold. The rooster was doing his best not to look scared but she could feel the panic in his eyes, he had every reason to be scared, she was going to kill him next. Duncan, on the other hand, didn't look worried in the slightest. Arrogant 'til the end she supposed, she would see his death was fittingly the most horrible. He had served his purpose to her and now it was time to move on. She would never be in the shadow of another Glomgold, it was all going to change tonight. She raised her hand and wrapped her magic around Steelbeak. She let it slowly constrict him, watching with a smile his furious attempts to free himself. She counted out loud when she felt a rib snap and felt her grin widen with each shriek of pain. Duncan's eyes were no different from before but she could sense the urgency in his trigger finger as he shot at her. **_How touching_,** she mused, **_he doesn't want to lose his second banana_**. She wanted to draw out this guarded trauma for as long as she could, maybe she'd break Glomgold's calm front if his friend suffered enough.

This procedure didn't get to be practiced however, because she was suddenly pelted with a brutal wave of hail the size of baseballs. With a flourish she prepared a counter spell for the young woman stalking steadily toward her, but was forced to release her captive. Green flames swallowed the ice and sped toward the girl, in response a sheet of water fell out of thin air and extinguished them. She felt a smile creep back across her beak.

"Ready to play for real darlink? So willing to sacrifice his life to try and stop me are you? True love really knows no bounds." She laughed. The only response she received was a strong gust of wind laced with lightening.

Their magical duel had begun. The air itself seemed to clear to allow their spells passage. Through silent incantations and intricate hand movements the elements obeyed them, battling to find the weakness it the other's offense. Fire against ice, wind against earth, wits against wits. Their movements blurred by the violent sparks that erupted around them. Spells clashed, dispersing their malicious attacks away from a target they never hit. The roof around the combatants was quickly suffering from their ferocity with explosions and deep gashes. There was only one place for the momentarily forgotten prey to duck behind, and it was currently occupied by someone else. It took some doing but Duncan was able to get his pulverized second in command on his feet. He'd have to swallow his vendetta for now, before things got anymore out of his control.

Drake grit his teeth as he sat where she'd left him, it was all he could do to keep from screaming. The already frigid air crushed him like an avalanche. He had no clue what was going on, he had lost all perception of what was going on around him. She must have been holding her own because if Morgana had lost he wouldn't feel like he was being put through a meat grinder in slow motion. He could feel each bruise, every welt, each cut swell to the pain of having his arm crushed in a vise. His hand was still bleeding, his blood feeling hot against his frozen feathers, numbness claming his fingers. His breath streamed out of him like a smokestack, his vision blurring in and out of focus. The uncontrollable shivering more closely resembling convulsions, his breathing was reduced to sharp painful gasps. He had a feeling it would happen like this, after the first time she had done this to him, he suspected he would die like this. He only hoped he'd given Morgana the time she needed. The numbness traveled up his arms and he felt his strained breath grow shallower. It was horrible to be so aware of all the aspects you needed to live slowly giving out on you, as if the knowledge that you were marked for death wasn't enough, you had to wait for it to catch up with you. He felt a new shudder ravish him, the cold returning in a new wave, his breath no longer catching in his chest. It was almost as if he was thawing a bit, Morgana hadn't stopped, it was something else. He became vaguely aware of someone crouched in front of him.

"Can you possibly get anymore useless?" Growled the familiar voice, nearer than he would have pleased.

Drake found he was able to keep the scowling face before him in focus. It was unnerving, like looking into a morbid mirror. Glomgold looked as if nothing at all had happened, he guessed it was too much to ask of Magica to take care of him. He heard painful breathing to his left and saw that Steelbeak shared their cover. He looked horrible, sweat was rolling down his face and the metal beak was shut in an agonizing grimace. Despite the agent's obvious pain he still held his gun, the fight was not out of him yet.

"Get up." Commanded Glomgold angrily.

"I don't know if you've noticed…" Drake croaked. "… But I can't do much of anything at the moment." Each word escaped him with a pang of anguish. The replica pair of eyes narrowed in impatience.

"Don't be such a crybaby." He grabbed Drake by the forearm and to his surprise his pain eased slightly. Glomgold wrenched him to his feet.

"Boss w..whaddya doin'?" Steelbeak asked before Drake had a chance.

"Something that has to be done, no matter how ill it makes me feel." The blue eyes stared right into his.

Why did he feel so strange? It was an odd feeling, peeking through the weakness of Morgana's withdrawal of his strength. It was like he was staring at a part of himself he had lost. Without warning he was overcome with a crippling pain. His head felt like it was ready to split in two and he felt like he was going to throw up. A thick oily liquid invaded his mouth and a hand harshly clamped his bill shut.

"Keep that shit in you weakling." Snarled his double.

Drake had to choke down the sickening substance that wanted to leave him, he didn't know what it was, and it seemed like today would not be the day he found out. With a cruel grip Glomgold took a hold of his shoulder and tried to steer him out of the cover of the stairwell. Drake planted his feet.

"What are you doing?" He fumed.

"We're going out there." Glared Glomgold.

"Like hell we are!"

Drake barely had time enough to blink before he was pushed up against the wall and pinned in place by the throat, a gun pressed firmly between his eyes. Glomgold looked primed to explode, Drake figured he wasn't used to people not doing what he said. The hand was greatly restricting the passage of air to his lungs, the face before him lined with hatred spoke.

"If I had any other idea to stop the little goblin trust me, I'd use it. But unfortunately it looks like I need to tolerate your miserable existence just a little bit longer than I initially planned. I won't have Morgana killed because you were too busy chucking up your 'medicine' all over my rooftop." Flared Glomgold furiously.

"My medicine?" Drake repeated.

"Did I stutter?" Aggravation flashed in the cold eyes. "You don't remember because they didn't want you to. Listen, I'd love to tell you exactly how screwed up you really are but we have a witch to kill." He lowered the gun and turned his eyes to Steelbeak. "You've got to back us up Rusty, any clear shot you get, you take it. Understand?"

The rooster nodded, forcing himself to stand, peering around the side of the stairwell.

"How's it look?"

"Bad."

"Just the way I like it." Grinned Glomgold and he shoved Drake out into the fray.

Morgana and Magica had succeeded in demolishing a large portion of the roof, and he could see the dark clouds that surrounded the building. They were thunder clouds, with bolts of lightening dancing madly around in them, which was Magica's doing no doubt. It was her way of keeping Gizmoduck at bay. Colorful blasts ripped through the night sky, the looks on the combatants faces telling him the women were pretty evenly matched. Morgana waved her arms through the air and he watched a ring of fire slice through the air only to be met with a wall of ice. It was amazing, but what could he do? Glomgold's irritated hand seized his bicep and began to walk toward the women, pulling him along.

"What are you up to?" Drake shouted over the din of the magical battle.

"Just shut up and stay by Morgana." Glomgold spat.

There was an earsplitting noise that halted their progress. They watched as Magica tore a hole in reality itself and summoned a charcoal colored dragon out of the abyss. Drake could to nothing but stare at the massive creature that planted its scaly feet on the failing roof. Glomgold just let out an aggravated growl.

"Show off." He grumbled and started their trek again, his fierce grip still pulling Drake behind him like a child.

There was a screech as the bird Morgana had called upon before appeared, its size swelled to match it's lizard like opponent. Claws scratching, fangs mashing, beaks stabbing, the unnatural creatures struggled, following the unspoken commands of their casters, grappling in intense combat. Drake couldn't shake the thought that they were like two ants marching steadily toward their doom. If this was really how it was going to end he was going to get some answers.

"Who are you? Magica called you Duncan Glomgold."

"Well she would know wouldn't she." Snapped his double sarcastically as the dragon hurled a fire ball at the bird.

"What happened to me? Why do you have my negatrons?"

All progress stopped and his double rounded on him lividly.

"**_Your_** negatrons?" He fumed. "How do you figure they were ever yours?"

"I know they are." Drake said flatly.

"Oh is that so?" The battle waged on behind him but Drake was more concerned with the escalating anger in those cold eyes. "If they were yours then why are you the one with the mangled memory? The one with no real name? You can't even remember what damned asylum they treated you at! No, 'Drake' I assure you these negatrons are mine. You better go back to the drawing board."

They were so close to the battle now they had to be careful not to be crushed by the large beast's feet. Morgana was near enough for him to make out the pained expression on her face. As the distance between them closed the bird faltered, it flickered weakly like it wanted to vanish as Glomgold approached. The dragon struck at the struggling bird relentlessly. Drake was severely shoved toward Morgana, Glomgold hanging back, watching the creatures as if testing a hypothesis.

"Get over there you idiot!" Glomgold growled.

Drake moved toward her, the painful cold increasing with each step, the bird regaining its strength. The other witch must have caught on because the dragon snapped at him but the bird flung itself at the monster, blocking its path. He closed the gap between them.

"Drake! What are you doing here?" She grunted at him.

He looked back and saw Glomgold sneer at the titans. The bird was back with a ferocious new fury. His double than turned his attention to the witch who was a threat to them all, finally he understood.

"I'm here to keep you from collapsing." He felt the numbness tingle throughout him as he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. Glomgold needed him to keep Morgana fighting, to keep Magica distracted, to keep her hands full.

As Duncan strode toward the woman, paying little attention to the chaos he was quickly leaving behind him, he fixed his calculating eyes on the bandages that bound her left arm. She was right, no lucky shot was going to down her, but he didn't believe in luck anyway. He reached to the small of his back and drew a large hunting knife from its leather sheath, a frown set on his face. This had gone on long enough. If anyone was going to kill Morgana it was going to be him, and only when he wanted to. He held his gun in one hand and his razor sharp blade in the other, he shouldn't have waited so long to do this, but then again, her current state did make things more interesting. Magica had her eyes clamped shut in determined concentration; she held her arms out in front of her as she soundlessly moved her mouth.

He cracked his neck loudly as he neared her, the dragon spewing fire onto the roof top in the distance. The dime was buried in the flesh under that bandage, deep in her arm, there was only one way to remedy that. Steelbeak's cover fire began and bullets whizzed around him. He had to give him credit, even though the guy was practically doubled over in pain he still had spot on aim. The red eyes flashed open as the bullets neared her and she waved them into nothingness, then her fiery gaze landed on him.

"Come to die darlink?" She asked, her voice strained with the effort of holding the dragon in this realm, but still holding that cockiness. He grinned.

"Not at all."

With out a second's hesitation he brought his blade down hard as more shots ripped through the air.

Morgana watched the dragon disappear with a scream from its master. She ceased her spell immediately and let her borrowed strength leave her. What she saw she couldn't believe. The duck dressed as Darkwing had seized the witch wickedly by the hair and was finishing the process of cutting her arm off at the elbow. Morgana could not hide her horror. Steelbeak managed to shoot the struggling woman from a distance as his Boss threw the severed limb across the destroyed roof. Magica was no longer the fierce deity she had been moments earlier, she cradled her mangled limb unable to disguise her agony. She had her power removed from her, she was not a threat anymore. Morgana saw a grin devour the double's face as he pulled the witches hair so she looked up at him from her defeated position at his feet. He said something to her, what she didn't know. The curiosity left her when he immediately, and expertly dragged the sharp blade across the witch's throat. Too late Morgana clenched her eyes shut. It was done. Magica was dead, brutally killed by the evilest of men.

She tried not to think about it, but her stomach still churned from the pleasure such violence brought him. Drake's arms loosened around her middle, and her fear was renewed. Her eyes quickly opened, the view she saw was Glomgold standing over Magica's body, her blood dripping from his blade. She fought the urge to vomit when he licked the blood splattered steel. It only added to her terror when she felt Drake collapse behind her. Steelbeak was making his way slowly over to his Boss as she pried her eyes away from the monster and turned to check on Drake. She knelt beside his crumpled form, he was terribly still and icy to the touch. She scooped him up in her arms, his chest barely rising and falling with his strained breathing.

"Drake wake up." She pleaded with him, unable to rouse him.

He wasn't dead, but if he didn't regain himself he'd be next to meet Glomgold's steel. He looked horrible, he was positively maimed, she wanted nothing more than to heal him but her magic was spent from her battle, and her strength gradually faded with the sound of approaching footsteps. She raised her eyes to see the double walking toward them, he was untying the dark bandanna that covered his face, the mask he wore to better masquerade as Darkwing. He threw the scrap of fabric aside and she looked into his face. They were almost identical. A few facial scars separated them from being undistinguishable from the other, she made a mental note not to remove those scars from Drake. Though they were so alike, it was a stranger's face that stared her down, cold and malicious. Glomgold kept his menacing stride as he wiped the bloody knife off on his pant leg before he replaced it in its hidden holder. With the now free hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out a slightly bent cigar, he put it in his mouth and lit it.

The smoke curled around him as he cocked his pistol. Morgana desperately shook Drake. She was so weak, she felt like she was going to keel over as he neared them. A strong kick connected with the side of her head, and she careened backward hitting her skull on the floor. Hot tears tore own her face as her neck burned in pain, she forced herself to sit up to find Glomgold standing over Drake, his gun aimed down at his head. She wanted to scream, wanted to cast a spell on him, but she could barely think over the negatrons strangling her. To her surprise the next thing she heard was Drake's weak voice.

"You've been behind everything." He wheezed as he weakly opened his eyes.

"Welcome to the program." Sneered his double the smoke puffing out with his words.

"You had Gosalyn's grandfather killed…"

"Well that was just an added bonus I suppose. I really wanted fat boy Bulba to learn his place, that didn't work out, then you went and blew yourself up. I'm sure you wondered how you found yourself at that hospital? I wasn't going to let you get off so easy…"

"You set Quackerjack after me."

"I pointed him in your direction, yes. He never was very fond of you in the first place, but he'll be all out of giggles when I tell him I killed you tonight. I think he was looking for a rematch."

"He's dead."

"Sure he is." Smiled the grim face.

"Who are you?"

"I guess you have the right to know who is going to splatter your brains all over this rooftop, you can call me **_Lord Negaduck_**."

The door of the stairwell slammed open and a swarm of S.H.U.S.H. agents led by J Gander exploded onto the scene. Negaduck didn't flinch, Steelbeak however quickly took aim at Hooter.

"Director Hooter, how nice of you to join us." Negaduck said pleasantly.

"Let Darkwing go, we have you out numbered." Hooter demanded.

Negaduck laughed.

"You really think you've got me cornered?"

"If you had an escape plan you would have used it earlier, when Ms. DeSpell was still among the living."

"It's thoughts like that that keep you bozos ten steps behind us. We don't think alike at all, which is why Darkwing dies here and now, and Agent Steelbeak and I will be taking the girl with us when we leave." The sound of a helicopter came booming over the cityscape, the craft swinging quickly into view, the letters F.O.W.L. emblazoned on the side. "You see?" Shouted Negaduck over the din. "No one can stop me!"

Morgana felt faint, this was too horrible. He was right, she couldn't even raise an arm to save the man she loved and J. Gander would never shoot first. The helicopter slowed to hover above them, the cruel wind whipping her hair around her face, a ladder spewing from its open door.

"You have made your point, so release him and the woman." Hooter raised his voice to be heard.

Negaduck let out a dark chuckle.

"Not on your life." He began to pull the trigger.

It was then she noticed it with a painful leap of her heart. Another sound was being drowned out by the incredibly loud helicopter, a softer, smaller set of thumping. A shot rang out from behind her and the gun flew out of Negaduck's hand. The double snarled like a beast as Gizmoduck touched down right in front of her.

"Surrender now villain or I shall be forced into becoming uncivil with you!" Proclaimed the armored duck.

Negaduck reached for his knife again, a look of uninhibited anger on his face but Steelbeak grabbed his arm as the helicopter opened fire on the S.H.U.S.H. agents. He pulled him to the ladder and they exchanged a few words. After a heartfelt glare at Gizmoduck, Negaduck latched onto the ladder.

"This isn't over. Not by a long shot." He roared as he ascended into the vessel and it started its retreat.

She felt her burden lift and her exhaustion swarm her. Her heavy eyes slid onto Drake who was laying still, his eyes closed once again. She wanted to run to him, hold him in her arms, but she had no strength left. She felt her body give out on her and a pair of metal coated arms caught her before she hit the ground.

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

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(whew) There you have it. The battle. Just a few loose ends to tie up and this story will be done, then onto the last one. (I thought I'd never make it this far!) I think there are still a few chapters left here, just so you know. Thanks as always for your time and support.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty Two

Isabella

In the darkness of her subconscious, she felt the pull of a child's essence. Her inner eye opened and she found herself sitting in the main hall of what must have been a mansion. A lush red carpet poured down an impressive marble stair case, the owner spared no expense at its construction. Her eyes wandered from priceless item to priceless item, she knew where she was. She was standing inside Scrooge McDuck's manor… but she wasn't alone.

"I just wanted to thank you one last time Morgana." Came a voice she had become so familiar with.

She smiled gently and found Dewey walking down the stairs.

"You don't need to, you're the one who should be thanked. With out you dear, I would have never found Launchpad, as far as I can tell … you saved everyone."

"Not really, he did." The boy stopped in front of her, looking as solid as she was. That sort of thing happened when you were contacted by ghosts in their own realm. "When it comes down to it, Darkwing saved them. With out him, Agent Hooter wouldn't have come to help Launchpad, you wouldn't have gotten stronger to rescue Fenton and Gosalyn, or even been able to stand up to Magica at all. Just because he was there… no one I loved met the same fate I did. Darkwing's really something isn't he?" He asked with admiration undisguised in his young voice.

"Yes. Yes he is." She smiled warmly.

"You're going to have your hands full trying to keep him out of trouble."

"I don't think that's possible." She laughed.

His smile faded and he looked toward the large doors to their right, a bright light shining through the cracks. It was finally time for him to go, to move on.

"Morgana can you tell my family, I was with them? That I'll always love them?"

"Of course…" She knelt beside him and he threw his arms around her neck. He wasn't afraid, she could feel it, but there was a tenseness to him.

"Do you know his name?" He breathed in her ear, sounding worried someone would hear him.

"Darkwing's? It's Drake Mallard…"

"No. His **_real_** name?"

She pulled away from him so she could look into his eyes, shocked.

"Do you know it?" She gasped. He winced and slowly nodded. She seized him by the shoulders. "Tell me! He's been torturing himself for years, he has to know! Please tell me his name!"

"I can't…" Dewey said sadly closing his eyes. "If I tell you, if he finds out, he'll never be the same…"

"He has a right to know."

"I don't want to be the one to tell him, but _they_ can help him." The light streamed through the cracks growing brighter, the faint sound of a woman and a man's voices joyfully calling the child's name. He turned his hope filled eyes to the door. "Mom? Dad?"

She wouldn't let him go just yet, she shook his attention back to her.

"Who's _they_?"

"S.H.U.S.H."

"S.H.U.S.H. knows who he really is?" She repeated numbly.

"Hooter had a clue, he tried to see if Darkwing would recognize it, but Hooter didn't know that he doesn't remember. So he thought he was wrong when he didn't respond to her name…"

"Whose name?" She asked, her throat tightening.

"… his sister's."

The light engulfed the doors and ripped the scene away from her. In the real world her eyes tore open. She was dazed by what the boy had told her. When did Hooter tell Drake his sister's name? When he met with him in the run down building before the kidnapping? Drake couldn't possibly have known who she was, but did he remember the name? With a rush of awareness that being woken brings, she felt the stinging pain in her head and took a sharp inhale. She was lying on a hard cot and when she looked around she found an unfamiliar room. It was small and almost business like, completely void of comfort. She sat up stiffly her skull aching. Negaduck had really jostled her with the kiss he gave her, nothing seemed to be right. There were still negatrons suppressing her, clinging to her like invisible leeches. Every little movement panged in the way a deep breath hurts a pair of lungs that were near suffocation. Was this similar to what Drake felt when she tapped his power? Drake… she looked around, he wasn't here. Negaduck was long gone, far away from wherever here was, if he wasn't she wouldn't have the strength to sit. But where was Drake?

She closed her eyes and tried to find him but the negatrons bore into her brain if she attempted any spell casting. She shook the agony away and forced herself to stand. There was a rather unceremonious looking door in the room, the only exit she could see, and a plain desk. With a brief glance at it she saw a blank sheet of paper with an unmistakable emblem on it, she was in a S.H.U.S.H. building. She sighed lightly, it was good to know she was out of hot water, but she couldn't be too sure of what they intended to do next. Whatever it was, she was tired of lurking in this small room, she reached out for the door knob and was thoroughly surprised to find it unlocked. She held her breath and opened it. A lightly guarded hallway greeted her. The walls were off white and she was glad the lights were dimmed or she was sure it would be blinding. Being outside the room and in this reasonably lit area she could see she was in shambles. The black silk dress Negaduck had provided for her was not the gentle seductive ensemble it once was. It was tattered, torn, and singed from her battles. Her battered and dirty bare feet padded along the well polished floor. They echoed along the silent hall, the guards not even acknowledging her presence as she approached.

Drake was here, he had to be. He had been so still on the roof, but he spoke… he was still alive. If they had taken her, surely they would have him too? Two agents were standing meaningfully on either side of a door ahead of her, as she neared she could make out a sleek looking medical room beyond. Before she even got with in good visual range of the room she was greeted.

"Good evening Miss." The pleasant voice came from an unseen corner of the room. She closed in on the source of the sound, the guards still ignoring her.

"Director Hooter, where is Darkwing?" She asked, the agents didn't look set to bar her access to the room. It didn't settle well with her, but she was terribly weak and didn't really feel like being challenged at the moment.

"Why, he's right here. Do come in."  
She frowned. He had complete control and she hated it. She had been manipulated more times than she cared to count by men who held the same confident tone Hooter had just used. Back before she wised up, before she toughened up and blocked people out, back before Drake had reunited her with her lost kindness. The last thing she wanted was to be taken advantage of, to be blackmailed, or reverted to the self preserving person she had been, all things she feared were on the inside of that room. Despite her turmoil she felt drawn to a corner of the room she couldn't see, felt the negatrons cringe at the sensation. Drake was in there. She had no choice, she entered the room.

It reminded her of one of the eerily sterile looking rooms the likes of which littered science fiction movies. J. Gander strode into the center, his hands in his pockets, his keen eyes on her. Directly to her left, pressed against the wall was a bed, it looked more like a coroner's slab actually, but he was on it. Drake was still, as he had been on the roof. It looked as if they had done nothing to help him, he was still in the poor state she had last seen him in. He was battered, bleeding, and bruising, she felt her temper rise. Hooter's eyes seemed to read her like a book.

"I'm afraid our medical professional has yet to arrive. You weren't out very long, rest assured that we haven't neglected him."

She took Darkwing's cold hand, caked in his own dried blood, wishing her powers weren't so drained. She couldn't heal him right now, though just being near him was pushing the negatrons away. What she could do was ease his pain, cure what little she could.

"I don't understand it." Hooter sighed to himself. "He has proven himself more than capable of incapacitating my best agents, taking on an entire building of foes, and one of the most dangerous criminals ever to roam these streets. Yet, here he is now, beaten within an inch of his life with no claim to any damage inflicted up there." His tone suggested that he was merely speaking his mind but she knew better. He required an answer.

"Did you forget, Director Hooter, that a young boy's life was at risk." She wasn't about to tell him about being faced with "his evil twin", there were just some things better left unsaid.

"He would truly accept his brutality in the hopes of saving a child? The fiend never would have released his bargaining chip…"

"I understand that as well as you do. I'm sure he knew it too, but that's just who he is.." She felt the warmth slowly return to the hand she held.

"He certainly has strength of character." Hooter searched her face with the silent observation he had mastered so many years ago.

It was clear on her beautiful features that love was beating in the woman's heart. He knew she was a witch, a spell caster strong enough to keep Magica DeSpell at bay, and was an important player in this game. The head of F.O.W.L. wanted her enough to kill Darkwing, or was that just a perk of getting rid of the vigilante? He'd have to try to figure that out later, now he had to put his observation skills to work. She was a mess but still as gorgeous as the starlets of the old detective stories he grew up on. She may have looked like she walked right out of a similar film or novel but it was clear she was nowhere near as helpless or lost as those damsels so often were. No, this one was strong alright, forced out on her own at an early age perhaps. There was always an air of certainty of self in people like that, she had this, even though he could tell it wavered. He knew she was not going to offer any information that would help him, but he might be able to pick up a few clues by watching her and Darkwing. Her bottomless green eyes found their way to his.

"This man is the greatest ally you will ever encounter. I don't know why your agents are so keen to look down on him but I know you aren't. He respects you, he trusts you. I want your word that you will not abandon him if he needs you. I don't give a damn about your professional obligations, but if he asks for your help you I want you to swear you will aid him." Her voice was dark and serious, it swam through the air like an eel curling through water.

"My dear, you're asking an awful lot of me. I will say this, there are few people whom I hold in higher regard, and he is by far he youngest to earn my admiration in a long while." He took his hands out of his pockets and inspected his watch casually, the doctor should have been here by now. "But, I'm afraid I cannot give you my unshakable word on what you ask of me…"

"Who is he J. Gander?" Growled a rough voice.

Hooter's gaze slowly rose to meet the blood shot eyes of the barely conscious vigilante.

"Well, welcome back Darkwing, you gave us a bit of a scare for a moment there."

"Who is he?"

"I was hoping you'd be able to tell me, I know he calls himself Duncan Glomgold but that is just not possible."

"Why?" There was harshness in the pain riddled voice.

"Because Darkwing, Duncan Glomgold is dead. He has been for some time now."

"How long?"

Hooter sighed a bit annoyed at the interrogation.

"I believe around eighteen years. He was a victim of a triple homicide as the record states it, I was not personally involved with the investigation, but I hear it was very unpleasant. However, I have reacquainted myself with the case in light of a whim and this madman's claims." Hooter watched the young man make a valiant attempt to sit up. He found the aid he needed in his lady friend, though she urged him to be still.

He had been familiar with Darkwing for months now, it sometimes felt longer. Since he had known him, he had met other people for much shorter periods of time and had figured them out completely. If there was something he prided himself on, it was his ability to pick up on quirks and simple things others over looked, they never failed to give away a person's true intentions. He had dispelled candidates for the academy or brought down corrupt public figures using this tactic, it never took him too much effort to figure people out. Well, most people. Darkwing was always a mystery, never predictable or easy to read. He liked to think of the man as a jigsaw puzzle that was missing the reference picture, and had a handful of extra pieces thrown in just for kicks. It wasn't very often when the brilliant young man revealed something about his true self, but when he did Hooter committed it to memory. The blue eyes of the youth had always proved a dead end to his silent inquiries, but now as they looked in to the face of his companion they reflected all to clear what Hooter had seen in her only moments earlier. For these two, love was indeed a battlefield.

"Where are we?" Darkwing's eyes lost their momentary emotion and were upon him again.

"We are in one of our branches, the rooftops of St. Canard are no place for the motionless likes of you two."

"A S.H.U.S.H. base…" Darkwing said thickly. Hooter could see that the young man was fighting to stay awake, as a result it appeared as if his thinking wasn't up to par. His lady friend, on the other hand, had her fierce eyes locked on him in a heartfelt glare.

"You can't keep us here." She informed him firmly.

"I suppose. I do not doubt your abilities Madam, if you felt so inclined you certainly could leave in an explosion of flower pedals if you pleased." He adjusted his glasses. "That is of course if you have fully recovered from your struggle, I'd imagine you'd be rather drained after such a display of strength."

"What do you want?" Hostility, the likes of which he had never heard Darkwing use before, stung him with each word.

"I'm afraid we have come to a stand off here Darkwing. I am sorry it had to happen like this but there is only so much I can allow."

"So you've 'caught' me and now you think I'm going to tell you all about my fascinating double life?"

"You are obligated to tell me nothing but, it would be easier on everyone if you cooperated. We can get all the information we truly need from a fingerprint."

"Unless I have no fingerprint record."

"Our onsite lab can match your DNA with a name by morning."

"And if my DNA is not on file?"

Hooter chuckled distractedly to himself.

"I see you have prepared for every outcome. How long have you been so untraceable I wonder?" Behind the wall of calm, Hooter sensed that this was a sore subject, he made a mental note of it.

"Who are you trying to kid? You took my fingerprints and blood sample when I was passed out, you know they're not on in your system." Hooter couldn't help but smile to himself, he should have known better than to try and deceive him. "Why are you suddenly so interested in my identity, it has a suspicious ring of incarceration to it."

"Well, I daresay there is a person who can masquerade as you with a frightening accuracy, who seems to know you exceedingly well. I can't help but feel if we possessed the same knowledge we could catch him at his own game, knowing you from him."  
"Sorry J. Gander, I know myself pretty well and I don't even have a clue who the guy is…"

"If you confided in us we could offer you protection, both of you. Protection for your family if you should require it." He prodded, Darkwing's impeccable defenses were up again, no clues met his statement. "You understand that person, whoever he truly is, he is the head of the Fiendish Organization for World Larceny? He had resources at his fingertips that you and I would not dare unleash on anyone. He however, has proven malicious time and time again."

"I am well aware of that." Darkwing snapped. Hooter was caught off guard by the outburst. So, it would seem Darkwing had been a victim of this person before, he stored this away for further reflection. The angry mallard continued. "I am also aware that the only thing I would gain from telling you who I am, is unwanted surveillance." Darkwing let out a growling sigh. "I'm done here, I've got other things to see to."

"I cannot promise my agents will not gun you down if you leave. 'Glomgold' has shown us he has a replica of your costume, he will undoubtedly don it again. I will not tell my men to hold their fire on the off chance the wrong duck is in their crosshairs."

"So, the honeymoon is over it would seem?" Darkwing slid his eyes onto him.

"It is if you are unwilling to cooperate."

"Well, sorry but I'm not ready to play by your rules." Darkwing stood shakily, his lady friend latching onto him keeping him steady.

"You do not want to turn your back on this opportunity Darkwing."

The beaten duck gave him a weak smile.

"I have to."

There was a blinding white flash. Hooter heard the sentries canter into the room. He blinked his vision back and was far from surprised to find the two biggest mysteries he'd ever encountered had vanished. He sighed heavily and lifted his glasses to rub his sore eyes. He had tried so hard avoid this, but now he had to face it. They were enemies once again.

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are© Disney

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Ah, the next chapter may be the last... I don't know. I haven't quite written the ending yet. Hehe yeah, that's bad I know. I won't keep you hanging for a long time though... but don't expect anymore action here. Gotta tie up all the loose ends and catch up with the late Mr. Flood, but that's next time. Sorry if this chapter was boring... but it had to be done.And eep! At the moment this is the story with the highest word count in the DWD section! And it just keeps rising! I give you people so much credit and love for keep coming back for more. I really do appreciate it.

Also I posted this on my profile but I know you guys don't go there so I'll just put it here too for good measure:

_After some thought, I have decided to approach the next DWD story kind of differently. I have been writing up back stories and "mock reports" that tie into things that have happened that won't necessarily be included in their entirety in the final installment. But I figure I went through all the trouble I may as well post what I have, ya know.. give you a bit more insight into the characters. So what I'll probably do is post another "story" and just plop the back stories and such into the chapters over there, giving the appropriate heads up for spoilers and such at the top of the page. They will be in my traditional story format, so it won't be random words sprawled out over the page._

_As it stands now, there are a few entries that would be concerning Bushroot's activities in his two story "absence", and an extensive background on Morgana's past. I'll see how this all turns out and I really need to get my thoughts in order... they're all jumbled. Geeze._

As always thanks for reading and **super duper** thanks for reviewing!


	23. Chapter 23

(**Word of warning**: This is long. 14 pages by my count, please take it in stride.)

Chapter Twenty Three

The Beginning of the End

The night was dissolving around the city. Atop a condemned building, far from the life he once had, a lone figure stood awaiting the first rays of the sun. His liquidized face lined with a frown, he blinked at the lingering shadows. Perhaps the day would wake him from this madness; maybe the sun would reveal this to be nothing more than a nightmare. Things like this didn't happen; the only explanation was that the worst night of his life was not real.

He had gotten used to the drippiness and altogether wetness of his new form. He was surprised at how much he could do, what he only had to think about to accomplish. Despite his familiarity with the way he felt, he couldn't bring himself to look in a mirror. He didn't want to see the face that brought people terror; he didn't want to see what she had done to him. Felicity. He had tripped her, watched her slip and fall. Heard her head collide with the floor, the stumble rendering her unconscious. He had stood over her still form, his body literally boiling with his anger. And yet… He sighed and his eyes searched the skyline to predict where the sun would appear. He hadn't done it. He couldn't even bring himself to touch her. He had murdered every person who saw him on the way home, destroyed every soul in the bar, and he couldn't kill the only person who deserved it? He was crazier than he thought. It would only be a matter of time until his murderess reported him to the authorities, until they found the bodies. What was he supposed to do now? He considered throwing himself over the side of the building. Morbidly he figured that he wouldn't be able to kill himself that way as long as he remained like this. There was no escape for him, no reason, no where else to turn.

"Well Bud, it seems we've both had an interesting evening." Came a dark conversational voice from behind him.

"Mr. Glomgold?" He watched the in focus young man approach.

Glomgold was wearing a smart black suit and was lighting a cigar as he closed the distance between them. He looked so out of place here on this collapsing rooftop. How did he know where he was? How did he know what had happened? Why was he so calm when faced with the monster he had become?

"You know, I think the new look suits you." The cruel blue eyes locked onto him and looked right through him, "She made you drink the whole thing didn't she?"

"You knew this would happen!" He flared as he rose up menacingly, looming over the cool headed Glomgold.

"Hardly. If you had done what I told you, this probably never would have come to pass. But I guess since she was so bent on having her way she would have lied no matter what you did." He exhaled the gray smoke and it blew away on the chilly air. "Well, at least that's behind you."

"What do you mean?"

"She's dead. I thought you would have heard by now."

"Dead?" He repeated flatly, but he reverted to his 'normal' height. "That's not true, I didn't kill…"

"Have you ever heard of Darkwing Duck, Bud?" Glomgold interrupted him, stopping his stride, a few steps separating them.

"T.. the lunatic in the cape?" He asked, the question had disarmed his aggression and only instilled confusion.

"That's the one. I hate to be the bearer of bad news…" He swore a smile almost crossed the duck's face. "… But that 'lunatic' broke into your home late last night. She didn't stand a chance. They had a hard time identifying the body after what he'd done to her…"

"Liar! You really expect me to believe this bullshit!"

Glomgold took a newspaper out from a pocket on the inside of his jacket. He coolly unfolded it, regarded the front page casually, glanced up at him, and turned it over. The bold print of the headline nearly made him loose his composure, which would have resulted in a very shocked puddle.

**Millionaire's Widow Found Murdered in Her Home.**

He could do nothing but stare.

"Call it karma." Glomgold 's eyes traveled him. "What's your next move?"

"I…" He looked at the black and white photograph, a black shroud covered her, but her golden hair, matted with blood, had escaped it and was curling out on the floor around her. He just couldn't wrap his head around this. She was dead. Killed by Darkwing Duck? Why? He shook his head heartbroken. "I don't know."

"Well judging by what happened in that little slummy bar, I'd suggest you come up with something quickly." Glomgold tossed the paper into the puddle that encircled where the watery dog stood.

"How do you know all of this?" He nearly growled.

"It's all part of my business Bud…"

"Stop." He snapped suddenly. The blue eyes slid evilly onto him, he could swear the temperature dropped ten degrees. "Don't call me that… I'm not Bud Flood… not anymore." He heard his gargled voice state miserably. "He would never do anything I have."

"So then what should I call you? Old Drippy?"

The creature that used to be a man scanned his transparent hands. His mind recalled the last conversation he would ever have with his wife.

"Liquidator."

"The Liquidator huh?" Glomgold spewed out a thoughtful cloud of smoke. "I like it. So then Liquidator, I have a little proposition for you…"

The sun finally peaked at them between the surrounding skyscrapers.

It had been a couple hours since Morgana and Drake had come back to the house on Avian Way. She had transported them to the Tower, where she helped him change out of his tattered costume, and she gratefully put on some of his spare clothes. Once they were set they started their return to his home. Gosalyn had attacked them the second they set foot inside the house. Drake painfully returned the child's embrace, the relief in his eyes twinged with a look Morgana couldn't really pin point. It was sad, like he had just worked out an idea in his head but didn't like the way it turned out. Launchpad was present as well. It seemed that Fenton helped them duck out under S.H.U.S.H.'s noses when the situation was cleared up. It was a risky thing for the duck to do, and she was sure no one appreciated it more than Drake, whether he would admit it or not. The house was in shambles, even though the duo had been trying to clean it up, there was just too much damage. The handy McQuack had managed to put all the doors back on their hinges but the massive holes in the walls and scorch marks were beyond conventional repair. Before Morgana wasted her returning magic on the house she healed Drake and got him to bed. He was in a dead sleep before his head hit the pillow. She fought the urge to curl up beside him and fall into a dream. Instead she set about restoring the destroyed house.

It was disturbing to think that just a month earlier she had to do this same exact thing when Quackerjack had come here for Gosalyn. This time, however, the damage was ten times worse. The harm inflicted here was caused by Magica; Morgana couldn't help but think this was the last bit of magic the woman had conjured. It seemed so sad, she never thought she'd feel sorry for the vile woman, but no one deserved to die the way she did. Her thoughts wandered as she caused the beams to line up again with a tap, would the last spell she cast be as futile and self serving as this? She shook the thought out of her head as Gosalyn came up to her offering her services. The girl was so very eager to help but had an adorable tendency to slip into sleep mid sentence. Since she hadn't had a chance to set the upstairs right she sent the little girl to sleep with Drake. She sighed to herself, she had hoped to fall asleep beside him but at this rate it looked like that wouldn't happen.

Honestly, she wasn't too eager to close her eyes; she knew that the horrible images Negaduck had imprinted her with would be inescapable in her slumber. Her stomach still tied into knots when she thought about him, she had seen what he was capable of. He was terrifying. She didn't dwell on him long because unlike Gosalyn, Launchpad was very set on helping her. They hadn't really had much of a chance to talk in the past, in fact she barely knew the man. They worked together, his craftsmanship excelling where her weakened powers were sub par. She mostly listened to him talk about many things. He told her McDuck and the children were safe. Louie would be spending the night in the hospital with Scrooge diligently at his side. While Gizmoduck took the other two back to the rest of their party at the hotel. She noted the pleased tone he used when he spoke of them; he was very fond of them. He also told her that Gosalyn had gotten Dewey's belongings and given them to Fenton to deliver to Scrooge. It was after a few tiresome hours of work that she found he was wearing down. She sent him off and quite unexpectedly she found his arms around her in a strong hug.

"Thank you Morgana. If Drake didn't have you who knows what would have happened…" He said sadly. "Thank you for saving him and Gosalyn… and me."

She patted his back with a soft smile and he released her. His chestnut eyes held all the gratitude she needed.

"He saved me first. You all are helping me find something I didn't know was out there for me, and with out you I might not have found him at all. So I should thank you too. Thank you for being his friend, and taking care of them both."

He laughed and slapped her shoulder lightly.

"No problemo! Hey I'll be back later, hold down the fort for me? And try to get some sleep okay?" He flashed her his genuine smile and went on his way.

The house was almost completely restored and she was too drained to carry on. It was nearing seven in the morning when she sat on the couch. Her entire body ached. Negaduck was still out there, who was he? Hooter seemed convinced he wasn't Glomgold… but she wasn't so sure about that. Why was he the spitting image of Drake? It was like he was his shadow. All the evil and darkness Drake was lacking was rolled up into this volatile man. Could it be they were twins? She sighed heavily, that just didn't feel right. She could still feel him, like he left a cloud over her dulling her unnatural senses. Surrendering to the fact she would not find any answers in her own mind she curled up on the couch's soft cushions, sleep claiming her instantly.

Drake was violently awoken by the harsh ringing a phone. Reluctantly he opened his eyes. He was exactly where he was when he fell asleep, for a change. He let out a relieved sigh and noticed Gosalyn was passed out snoring lightly beside him. The phone screeched again and he grabbed the receiver.

"…'llo." The 'he' was lost to his grogginess.

"Mallard!" Shouted a loud rancid voice so shrilly it made him wince. It was a voice he knew as the owner of the Scrap yard he worked at. The angry man continued, "So ya are alive! Good I would have hated to miss the opportunity to hear you beg me not to fire your ass!"

"… Go ahead." Drake held the phone away from his ear as a wave of earsplitting profanity spewed through the speaker.

"I'm not kidding you little maggot! You haven't been to work in two days!"

"It's fine. I hated that job anyway." There was a long pause on the other side of the line. He closed his eyes again, he knew it was reckless and stupid to quit. But really, after what he had just been through, thinking about what awaited him, that crummy job was the least of his worries.

"W…well you're fired then."

"Okay. Have a nice day." He slammed the phone back on the cradle with out opening his eyes.

It was no surprise to him that he was still tired. He had no real idea how long he had gone with out sleeping, he had Magica to thank for that. But now that she was dead he had hoped he'd be able to just have a normal dreamless sleep. Instead, he found himself spending time in the asylum in his nightmares. Only this time he was completely alone. No Negaduck, no Quackerjack, no one. He just had his thoughts to keep him company and he really wanted to avoid thinking. But it was impossible.

He had raked his brain for any clues that would help him remember the blank spots of his memory. The answers were there, he knew it. They just didn't want to come to him, so he had to pour over what he knew. The images Morgana had revealed to him the month before, the old duck with the beard, there was also the vague memory of the man who had dropped him off at the orphanage. He couldn't remember what he looked like, but he felt that they had a strong bond… maybe he was an uncle or something? His parents were dead. He knew that. They were killed, then there was a girl… his sister. He didn't know what happened to her. After he had his fruitless mental searches he fell prey to the silence. He was forced to think about what he had tried so hard not to. The events of the last half of this year, Negaduck had admitted to orchestrating it all. He had been pulverized in the effort to help Gosalyn and her grandfather, had to hold his own against Taurus Bulba and Bushroot. Negaduck had been watching the drama unfold; he gave the order to his agent to kill Professor Waddlemyer. The image of the little girl he loved, in an uncharacteristically pink dress, weeping over the lifeless form of her last blood relative in her arms was one he would never forget. Negaduck had done that. He had killed an innocent man without even lifting a finger. But at the same time he had rescued him. When he came to his crashing rest on the fire escape after the ramrod blew up, Negaduck had come and had him safely deposited in the hospital. When he had regained his senses he was not dressed as Darkwing, that must have been where Negaduck got the template for his costume.

Now that he knew the truth it only made his survival bitter. Negaduck had saved him that night for the soul purpose of having more time to torture him. Drake had adopted Gosalyn, pulling her unwittingly back into his cross hairs, and then he met Morgana. Negaduck had been looking on as he started his life as Drake Mallard, knew where he lived, who his friends were, and sent Quackerjack after them. Again he was terribly beaten, only he had Morgana to speed up his recovery. That was the only thing Negaduck hadn't planned on. Morgana was still with him; no doubt the devious double had expected her to choose him instead.

But whatever wrath he had unleashed in the past, Drake knew the retaliation to what had just happened would be ten thousand times worse. He returned his thoughts to the present and opened his eyes to watch the sleeping child beside him. She was almost killed last night. He was powerless to help her. Never again. She would not be used as bait anymore. He knew what he had to do though it broke his heart to do it. But he had hurt too many people.

Morgana roused from her light sleep filled with the horrors Negaduck had unknowingly shown her. She blinked around, her racing mind recalling she was safe, that she was at Drake's house. Someone was walking around upstairs; she could sense him like gentle flame of a candle moving through a dark house. She straightened herself out and eagerly awaited the sound of his feet descending the staircase. Her breath caught in her chest, she was afraid. What if it was Negaduck instead? What if the goodness and warmth in his eyes were replaced by the evil that shone in the one who resembled him? What if he had been imprinted with the cruelness of his look alike? Was it possible that he absorbed his missing negatrons? The footfalls came and she felt light headed with the effort of holding her breath. He came into her sight, her heart rising despite her fear. He looked emotionally beaten, and though her magic had cured the injuries that had plagued him she couldn't help but notice he moved differently. Her magic couldn't undo what had been done to him; it only sped up the months long healing process to a few minutes. There was a stiffness to him that she suspected wouldn't be dispelled by any amount of magic. His eyes finally met hers and the breath escaped her in a rapturous sigh. There he was, her Drake, how she would always remember him. Passionate, kind, and tragically beautiful.

Before she could stop herself she ran to him. The moment he had passed the last step he was assaulted by her embrace. Being so close to him, being cradled in his arms she felt the negatrons recoil and start to hasten in their fading. For the first time since they had been reunited they were alone. Her head swam with things to say, her heart wanting to burst with this small joy. All the confessions, proclamations, apologies and speeches were silenced when he spoke first.

"Well… good morning to you too!" He smiled and looked around them. "Hey, you fixed up the house it looks great."

"Drake what are we going to do now?" She breathed. His blue eyes slid back to her after a crestfallen blink.

"I suppose you don't mean for me to answer 'eat breakfast'."

"We've got to act fast! Strike first if we can! We can't just sit back and wait for this all to happen again!"

"I know I screwed up alright!" He flared shortly and pulled away from her to head for the kitchen.

"No I didn't mean it like that!" She gave chase. "I just meant that we…"

"Morgana… there can't be a 'we'."

She stopped cold in her tracks. He was putting on a pot of coffee, not facing her. She had tried this with him before, tried to tell him she wasn't interested, that they weren't meant to be. This pain she felt now, it was what her words must have felt like to him. Only she knew how he really felt.

"I won't let you push me away Drake Mallard."

He shook his head hurriedly as he turned to her she saw the apology on his features. He looked like he hadn't gotten a moment's rest.

"No, no I'm not talking about 'us'." He sighed and leaned against the counter. "Morgana, I need you to do something for me."

"Anything." She swept over to him, the tingling warmth of his power caressing her feathers.

"I need you to promise you'll do it." He said firmly as he rubbed his sore looking eyes.

"I won't agree to anything until I've heard it." She matched his firm tone.

"So much for 'anything'…" he shook his head with a light laugh. "I want you to take Gosalyn and stay far away from me."

"What! No!"

"Don't you see? He'll just come for her, come after both of you again! I can't loose…" He stopped his stride broken with sadness. "I can't loose you two."

She took his face in her hands.

"You won't."

The doubt that she had tried to hide from him was called out by his serious eyes.

"Morg, we both know he weakens you, if he got either of you again he'd hold on hard."

"I won't leave you here alone to face him!" She fumed.

"It's the only way and you know it." He smiled weakly. The action pulled her heart down like a lead weight. She didn't want to condemn him.

"Where would you banish us?" She said curtly. She knew he was right, but she wasn't about to agree to his plan. How could he expect her too?

"Away. I can't know. Don't even talk about where you're going, he'd find out if I knew… I know he would. You have to go somewhere we've never talked about, a place only you know. Somewhere safe."

"He'll try to find us even if we go."

"You're probably right, which is why I have to try and confront him as soon as possible."

"You know that this 'great plan' of yours is suicide don't you?"

"It's the only way."

Morgana couldn't help but desperately grasp for reasons why they had to stay.

"Well what about Launchpad? Why is he any different?" She blurted out jealously.

"He's not. He's got to go with Mr. McDuck back to Duckburg."

"Drake I won't leave you to be a martyr!"

"You'd rather be here to watch?"

She couldn't deny it anymore. She had been useless when Negaduck had her and the thought of being that way again petrified her. As much as she loathed the idea to leave him she knew it wasn't as far fetched as she made it seem. He must have seen the defeat in her eyes because he drew her into a heart shattering hug. Negaduck had expected this, she was sure of it. He knew it would tear Drake apart to send away the people who loved him. The people who made him Drake.

"Please, don't tell Gosalyn why I'm staying behind. She wouldn't understand." He whispered.

"Dad!" Cried a panicked voice from upstairs and a frantic pair of feet thundered above, making their way quickly through the house. Near the speed of light Gosalyn appeared in the door way of the kitchen clutching a baseball bat. The anxiety drained from her face as she gave Drake a warm smile. "Oh there you are... I was afraid you ran off again." She propped the bat against the door frame and sat merrily at the table smiling at them. "So, I don't have to go to school today... right?"

Drake laughed.

"No, I think you're off the hook for a while."

"Cool beans! I wonder if Honk can skip school too..." Her plotting was interrupted and she blinked at him. "Hey, are you supposed to miss this many days of work?"

"Ah... actually, I got fired." He admitted bashfully.

"Figures. You miss work for something important and you get canned." She grumbled. " Well what are we gunna do now?"

Morgana looked at Drake who met her eyes with a silent sadness he hid from the girl. She turned her attention back to the little girl.

"You and I are going on a little trip Gosalyn dear." Morgana said sweetly.

"Keen gear! Are we going to see the guys at the circus! I'd love to show them my new slap shot! I call it the Gosalyn Grinder!" She announced loudly, then realization dawned on her. "Wait... what about dad?"

"He's going to catch up to us in a few days. As for where we're going... well..." She sighed lightly. "It's a surprise."

"So... does this mean the bad guys win?"

"No." Drake poured himself a freshly brewed cup of coffee. "We've just got to lay low and let things settle down for a bit before we try anything."

There was a knock on the front door, Drake looked quickly to Morgana who didn't share his worry.

"It's probably Launchpad," she offered.

He set down his untouched mug and moved through the room, Gosalyn at his heels. He reached the door and opened it. His eye level was greeted by a well polished top hat.

"M... Mister McDuck!" Drake stammered at the man and his small entourage.

"Morinin', uh... might we come in?"

Drake moved aside as Scrooge entered the house followed by Fenton and Launchpad. Scrooge looked around the house idly until his eyes met Gosalyn. His old eyes crinkled fondly.

"Ah lassie if ye wouldn't mind th' children would love te say goodbye. They're out in the car. Louie would hate not seein' ye."

Drake noticed a strange set of looks fly between Gosalyn, Fenton, and Launchpad. She looked pleadingly at LP, like she wanted nothing more than him to either forbid it or accompany her. Launchpad gave him an odd look, almost frightened but didn't give into her silent request. He'd have to get to the bottom of this later.

"Go on Gosalyn." Drake could see that visiting the children was not the only reason Scrooge wanted her to leave the room. She trudged out of the house as if he had sent her off to her own execution.

"So, Mr. McDuck what brings you here?"

"Ah'm on my way back te Duckburg but I couldn't leave without thanking ya."

"Don't. It was my fault this happened in the first place."

"Aye. That may be true but, thanks to ya an' Fenton ah've managed to see mah boys an' Webby in one piece in the end."

"It's not over yet." Drake sighed.

"What's your next move?" Fenton asked.

For the first time since they met, Fenton looked healthy. It seemed as if sleep hadn't been as unkind to him as it had to Drake.

"Actually, I was kind of hoping to talk to you about that." Drake locked eyes with Launchpad and the pilot must have predicted his intentions because resistance burned in his eyes. "Launchpad, you can't stay here, not in Saint Canard. Mr. McDuck, would you consider re-hiring him?"

"Nuh-uh! No way Deedubleyuh! I know I've been a knuckle head but I'm not going anywhere!"

"LP, they were going to kill you. You know that right? I can't give him the chance again."

"Sorry but that choice is mine."

"Launchpad..." Fenton interrupted. "Maybe you should consider it. I mean, no offense but, this isn't your fight."

"As long as my friend is fighting you better believe I'm gunna be involved!" Launchpad stated flatly. Drake sighed.

"He's making us go too Launchpad..." Morgana came up beside Drake. "... Gosalyn and I. As much as we want to stay, … how can we? We'll only be used as ammunition."

"But..." Launchpad struggled, his motivation broken knowing that he wasn't the only one being cast away.

"We'd love te have ye back, even if it's just fer a little while lad." Scrooge interjected kindly.

"Oh and don't worry Launchpad, believe me if Drake gets in trouble I'm not going to sit back and do nothing. Can I assume you're with me on this?" Morgana smiled and Launchpad nodded determinedly. Drake just shook his head.

"Yes! And Gizmoduck will always be there to answer your call friend." Fenton extended a hand.

Drake took in the friendly face and smiled gently as he shook the offered hand.

"Thanks, but I think he'd just cramp my style." He teased.

"You have a style? I thought you just flailed around like that on impulse." Fenton smirked. "I mean it though, if you need me I'll be there."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Well I think we should get on the road..." Fenton nodded to Morgana in parting then looked at the stone faced McQuack, before he walked toward the door.

"Hey, don't sweat it LP, you know me I'll be alright." Drake didn't believe a word of it but, the doubt couldn't be heard.

Without warning he was pulled into the barrel chested bird's arms. The force had been so unexpected he "oof"-ed, Launchpad had him in a severe bear hug.

"You better be okay, I still owe ya!"

"Bye Launchpad." Drake smiled weakly as his friend released him and followed Fenton out of the house.

"I'll see ya later!" Launchpad smiled as he closed the door.

He stood still for a moment. It really hurt. He knew it would but not, this much. Launchpad had been his friend, he was the first person to pursue him, make him take notice of the faces he blocked out when he was Darkwing. The night he met him, he almost didn't look at him. He took out a small band of thugs that were attacking a woman and set to blow the mechanic's drunken brains all over the alley way. Back then, he was fighting just for the sake of fighting, hoping to find comfort or purpose in knowing he was helping people. He would arrive quickly, lend his aid and disappear just as fast. But when he saved him, the first thing he noticed was the stunned eyes the duck had fixed on him. He'd grown accustomed to looks like that, after all he was in a costume beating up street punks, but something made him delay his retreat. The first thing his friend had said to him was: _Are you real_? He wasn't sure why, but it struck him funny. He had laughed, a pure laugh, a sound that he thought had died inside him. After that day, he found that the eager McQuack would show up in that alley in hopes of finding him there. When he confronted him, to tell him to get a life, Launchpad told him he wanted to work for him, that he wanted to repay him for saving him. Being confronted with a sober duck with such a serious pledge, made his defenses fall slightly. It was Launchpad who got the ball rolling. After he'd agreed to confide his hideout's location and became friendly with the pleasant McQuack, he was not as lonely as he had been. If he hadn't met Launchpad, he would be nothing, he'd be the same old blind Darkwing running around empty and alone. Now as he sadly looked at the door he had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that he'd never see his best friend again. It was with that thought, that he realized that Scrooge was still there and he pulled himself out of his thoughts.

"Mr. McDuck?"

"Ah know ye were aware of th' bounty ah placed on ya." Scrooge said plainly. "But I dinnet think ye knew about th' reward ah offered fer the return of mah Dewey's things." He pulled out an envelope and held it out to him.

"I can't take your money sir."

"Good. Because ah'm not givin' it just to you. It was your daughter who put the box in me hand. It's for both of you, ah dinnet want to hear yer excuses. Ah'm only tryin' te make yer lives easier, th' only way ah can." He put the envelope in Drake's hand and the old man fixed him with a heart warming gaze. He put his hand on Drake's shoulder.

"Thank ye Darkwing, an' you too lass." He looked at Morgana. "I cannet say how grateful ah am that fate brought us together."

"Mr. McDuck..." Morgana sounded hesitant. "Dewey... he wanted you to know he loved you very much, that he'd been watching over all of you. But, he's gone now, he's moved onto a better place."

Scrooge blinked slowly and a small smile passed his face.

"Aye. There were times when ah knew he was there... an' Launchpad an' Fenton saw him yesterday..." He let out a weak breath. "Thank you."

"He was a very special child, but you still have three more waiting for you."

"Ach. That ah do!" He said pulling himself together. " Well ah wish ye luck an' safety. Yer a friend of Scrooge McDuck now, so if ye need us please don't hesitate te ask." He tipped his hat formally and left the house.

Drake moved to stand in the open doorway. He saw the children out by the car, Louie sitting snugly inside covered in bandages. Honker had wandered over, ready for school, to say good bye to the children as well. Launchpad currently had Gosalyn in an embrace that he'd never seen them share before. She would never be able to deny the fact that Launchpad loved her after the crushing hug and teary eyes he showed her now. Webby looked away from Honker and saw him, she waved happily. The two boys followed her lead and waved at him merrily, he returned the favor hoping he didn't look too melancholy. A soft hand took his and the wonderful tingle ran up his arm. He noticed Fenton was talking to the woman named Gandra, as he got into the limo. Morgana was looking at her intently, he recalled what Magica had done.

"That's the real one... I didn't kiss her..." He said cautiously. Morgana laughed.

"I know. It's just... I know how she feels. The one she loves is always in danger, but she can't help him. I can aid you darling, but she just has to sit and wait for news to come her way. All she can do is pray, she must be so sad."

Drake watched the couple in the car, Fenton said something and she playfully hit him in response. He'd never thought about that before. Gosalyn made her way back to the house to join them as the rest of the McDuck clan made their departure. They waved as they were whisked away in the lap of luxury to their safe mansion, far from the dangers that lurked around this house. Honker trotted up beside Gosalyn, apparently prematurely waiting for the school bus.

"Aren't you coming to school today? They've been asking why you keep missing classes..." Honker asked her, a bit of worry in his artificially magnified eyes.

"Nah, Dad said I could stay home, plus Morgana's taking me somewhere." Gosalyn responded.

"Where?"

"I dunno."

"When are you leaving?"

"Uh, hey Morgana? When are we leaving?"

Morgana looked at Drake, he sighed lightly.

"Today." He said flatly.

"B...but Gosalyn..." The Muddlefoot flustered.

"Don't worry Honk, we'll be back... hey! I've got an idea! Maybe you can come with us!"

"NO!" Morgana shouted startled, then blushed immediately. "I...I'm sorry Honker, but... it's all very complicated..."

"It's okay, my parents are having a family reunion next week... I wouldn't be able to go anyway."

Drake shuddered at the thought of more Muddlefoots. The bus rolled to a stop in front of the house and Gosalyn initiated their secret handshake. Honker followed along though it looked like he'd rather have gotten a hug. He was a smart kid, he could tell when something was wrong. Drake just hoped Gos wouldn't catch on until she was safely away. Honker ran to the bus and stopped to look back at them before he climbed aboard. Gosalyn waved to him until the bus was gone, then turned to Drake and pointed to his hand.

"Hey, what's in the envelope dad?" Asked the curious red head.

"Nothing. Now, I think you should go pack up. You don't want to be late."

"Okay." She ran into the house and tore up the stairs.

Drake had forgotten about the reward, he moved inside after Morgana and closed the door tightly.

"Are you going to open it?" She asked him.

"I don't know."

"Then I will!" She smiled and snatched the envelope from him. She tore it open and stared at the small piece of paper. She blinked, let out a small laugh and handed the check to him.

He had to take hold of the banister to stay standing. Did he mean to write all those zeros? Drake swallowed hard as he gawked at the brittle little sheet that was worth more money than he'd ever be able to make at the Scrap yard. He felt his hands shaking and heard Morgana laugh warmly. The clunk of a suitcase being dragged down the stairs wrenched him out of his shock. He put the check in Morgana's hand and closed his hands around hers.

"Don't let her see it, you should open a bank account for her and don't let her touch it."

"Drake, we're not leaving forever, and this is your money too..." She said her happiness dimming slightly.

"Morg, you'll be all she has if something happens to me. If it's too much tell me now..."

"Dark, you know I love her... but you shouldn't talk like that."

"What are you guys doing?" Asked a suspicious Gosalyn as she dragged the suitcase roughly down another step. Shirts were sticking out between the zipper and it looked like it was packed with enough junk to last her a life time. He was sure she had just dumped a few drawers in there. He smiled, he was going to miss her so much.

"Need help?" He asked as an ungodly bang announced another step descended. He didn't wait for an answer but climbed up to meet her, taking hold of the heavy bag. "What did you put in here bricks?"

"Nah, my hockey gear, some roller blades, my catcher's mit and ball, oh and some clothes I guess..."

"You guess?" He smiled as he lugged the bag to the bottom of the stairs.

"So... are we going to drive to the surprise?"

"No, we're going by magic." Morgana smiled lightly.

"Awesome!" Gosalyn whooped as she seized the woman's hands. "Are we going now?"

"I..." Her eyes rose to meet Drake's sad nod. "I want to talk to your dad for a second before we go... but then we'll be ready okay?"

"Okay! I'm gunna eat somethin' I'm starved.." Gosalyn walked into the kitchen and closed the door behind her.

"You're really serious about this?"

"Yeah."

"Drake, I have something to tell you..." She moved over to him, the peaceful calm that being near him brought her was not dulled by their impending parting. "Dewey, when I saw him last... he said..." She searched his tired face. The boy had said the truth would change him, that he'd never be the same.

"What?" He asked her.

"N... nevermind." She breathed and reached into the pocket of the pants he had given her to wear. "I got something back that I didn't know you'd lost..." She put the Macabre pendant in his hand, the gold emblem standing out brilliantly against his white feathers.

"Where was it? I realized it was gone when..." He paused and met her eyes. "**_He_** had it, didn't he?"

She nodded lightly, to which he rubbed his eyes miserably. He was so distraught, so exhausted, it felt like the world was falling down on top of him. He was only reminded further of what he had to loose when she kissed him softly. He looked at her, no words coming to him. She was leaving, and like he had with Launchpad, he felt that he would never see her again. It was hard enough to say good bye to his friend, but he couldn't even find an optimistic lie to leave her with. Anything he would say would only make their separation worse. To add onto his grief he also had to deal with Gosalyn. When he said good bye to her and gave her a hug, her arms wrapped around him tightly. There was something in the way she squeezed him, it felt like she was holding down angry tears. She knew, he should have known better than to think she wouldn't catch on. She didn't say what he thought she would, in fact she kept up her act, maybe thinking that if he thought she didn't know he wouldn't worry so much. The two girls stood before him, and with one last sad glance at him they were gone with a wave of a hand.

He sat down on the couch slowly. He was alone. Completely. It was something he had strived for in the past, but now he had to fight the urge to cry. Whatever was going to happen... he was going to meet it. Going to fight it alone, no one else was going to be hurt because of him. Darkwing Duck had to take control... before the world crumbled around him, even if it meant Drake Mallard's happiness was destroyed. This was it, there was no turning back. This was the beginning of the end.

The End.

(To be Concluded in Trials of the Hero)

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Darkwing Duck, Ducktales and all related characters are © Disney

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A few things to address:

Bud Flood er… I mean, the Liquidator- in this chapter he does not use his trademark advertising lingo, I have reasons. Let's just say his mind hasn't really started "deteriorating" from his transformation, so he can still carry on normal conversations. So never fear Licky fans, he'll be shelling them out next story. (Also Duncan's a crafty bastard ain't he? Darkwing murdered Felicity? I think not.)

Darkwing's decision- I think he should have done this sooner. Don't think he's being stupid, because when you think about it, it is just who he is. If he would take a beating for a child he barely knew, he certainly would face death alone rather than have his family harmed.

Duncan/Negs- Hehe. Fearsome Five.

Other characters: Don't worry, just because DW made them leave they won't be absent in the story to come. (Well maybe McDuck and the kids will be, but as it stands now, Giz will surely make another appearance.) But Morgana and Gosalyn are in it just as much, if not more than this story. As for where they went… well, that's my little secret. ;D

Anyway, This is it! You made it! Only one left to go! I'll admit my progress on it is almost non-existent, but that'll change as soon as I work out the timeline problems in my head. And writing out of sequence really doesn't help me at all. As I have been doing, I'll leave you with a teaser summary:

Mere days after their encounter, Negaduck and Drake are back on their feet and out to strike first.

Negs, finally has had enough of Drake. He's ready to set his master plan in motion but only after deploying his new "fearsome" operatives to save a familiar face from a "shocking" execution.

Drake is forced to move on by himself, find out what the strange liquid that inhabits his body is, discover the secrets of his past, and manage to stay among the living. But when the answers all start falling into place, the outcome is not what he expected. The truth threatens to destroy him, and faces from the past come back with a thirst for revenge. Will the only solution not only claim the lives of the city's villains but, her champion as well?

Find out in the last installment.

Trials of the Hero


End file.
